


Atom

by MissAnonWrites



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Guardian Angels, Love, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAnonWrites/pseuds/MissAnonWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas is a guardian angel who is falling in love with his human ward. Complications arise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Night watch

It’s not the boredom of the long nights.

It’s the yearning.

No one prepared me for that.

I shifted my position on her bed, rolling onto my side, my face inches from hers as she slept soundly.

I looked at her eyebrows. One was furrowed slightly more than the other. The left one had three extra short strands in the corner than the right. The hairs closer to the bridge of her nose were blonder in tone.

Her breathe came in little puffs, still with the lingering scent of peppermint toothpaste and a hint of hot chocolate.

I leant in close, pretending to kiss her.

My lips emptily passed through hers, only feeling slight warmth.

Yet I pretended. I closed my eyes and imagined she was kissing me back.

I imagined she could hold me, that she would want to hold me, and she would call me her love.

My heart felt full, until a wave of coldness passed through me. The coldness of reality.

She didn’t know I existed. She may never know. And we would never feel each others touch. No matter how much I loved her.

My name is Thomas, and I am her guardian angel.


	2. Atom Chapter 1: Prayer

**_Thomas_ **

Despite her moments of ‘I’ll never find the right man!’ rage, my human continued on her quest, stoically, and rather admirably.

Each week she would attend a science lecture, or go to support her friend’s softball team on the common in the hope of meeting a straight single sportsman. She’d sometimes go to business conferences under the guise of work, when really she wanted to meet men.

It pained me to watch her return home each time disappointed, yet rather selfishly I was glad that she had not yet ‘clicked’ with anyone. She sometimes would question herself for being too fussy. Yet most men I saw were not good enough for her.

She was bold, persistent, brave, and beautiful. A one-of-a-kind. She deserves someone who will love her fully, not someone looking for a quick fling or a sedate homemaker.

I secretly hoped one day I could be the man for her. Somehow.

I’d kept pressing her intuition to not have her join an online dating site.

Unfortunately I knew that that path would only cause trouble for her. She would connect with a seemingly nice man called Clive who worked as a research assistant at Westminster University, only to find he had huge control issues and would end up reducing her world to the size of a pin-head.

I had to intercept. So, no online dating for her.

Tonight, we’re off to an improvisation class.

I’m waiting outside her bedroom door as she gets changed into ‘something comfortable that you can move in’, as the flier requested.

She emerges in sweatpants, an old grey sports tee shirt, her gym trainers and an oversized bag. She is a bustle of auburn hair, vanilla perfume and excited energy. I stand stock-still in the hallway, captivated, then quickly rush to follow her out of the front door.  
_________________

I sit on an empty chair by the biscuit table, not too far from her, looking at her hair as it cascades down her back while she fumbles in her bag to turn her mobile phone off.

The other people here are a motley lot. Some recent theatre graduates keeping their skills topped up, a couple of pensioners who wanted to try something different on a Thursday night, a man who is here clearly because he too thinks it could be a place to meet a potential mate, and an older lady who I’m guessing has kids, who comes here for ‘me time’ when really she could probably do with seeing a therapist and getting some home-help.

It’s so easy to watch over my girl. Even if I wasn’t charged with guarding her, my eyes would still be captivated by her.

I smile along with her as she takes part in exercises, I laugh at the sound of her giggles, and desire to talk with her when she is thinking thoughtfully as the tutor speaks.

Sometimes bursts of fierce emotion tumble out of her as she’s saying lines, or even just reacting to one of the other members of her group as they act out an idea. Her vitality and humanity reel me in.

And not only me, but seemingly Mr Single too. Luckily he has been put in a different group as hers so he can only snatch glimpses of her. My wings ruffle a little, yet I remain sat at the table.

Towards the end of the class everyone brings their chairs into a circle in the middle of the room as the tutor recaps the evening before bidding them all farewell. I squat down next to my human’s side, reading the notes she’s made in her spiral-bound notebook. _Not sure about the teacher_ , she’d scribbled in the margin. _Probably not coming back next week. Look into other classes…?_

I smile to myself and look up at her. She’s politely nodding as the tutor speaks, then covers her mouth as she makes a quiet yawn.

Come on sleepy head, let’s get you home.  
_______________________

She sits in front of her bedroom mirror and sighs.

_What’s wrong, love?_

She absentmindedly begins combing her hair, glancing at herself now and then, then looking away. Her brow furrows a little, the strokes of the comb slow down as she gets lost in her thoughts.

Her shoulders sag a little, and she sighs again.

_Come on, please say something… I can hear you…_

"Oh well..," she murmurs, and slowly gets up, placing her comb on the little table. She turns out her bedside lamp and burrows into her duvet, sniffing slightly.

I sit down by her bed, leaning against the wall. I wonder what’s going through her mind. Did something happen tonight that I didn’t see?

I hear her murmur, and get up to check on her. I bend over the bed to look, and find she’s clasping her hands together, prayer-like. She sighs loudly, and mutters again “oh well.”

“Dear God, I hope you’re listening.

Send my man to me.

I haven’t said this to anyone else, but, I want him more than anything else life could offer.

I want my life to be drenched with his hue, with the colours of having him in my life.”

“I can’t believe I’m crying,” she sniffles and wipes her eyes with her forearm.

I slip onto the bed and sit next to her, looking down as tears continue to pour down her cheeks. It is heartbreaking.

“I have a yearning and pulling and whirl in the pit of my being so strong.  
My life is less rich without him. I know that. I miss him terribly even though I haven’t met him. Why wedge us apart….?”

“Damn it. Come on,” she chastises herself. “Who needs a man anyway…”. She huffs and unclasps her hands, turning to lie on her side and try to sleep.

I watch as her strong mask crumbles as her longing returns, her eyes widening as she muses.

I want to squeeze her shoulder gently, to reassure her, but know that I cannot.

“I am not with him,” she whimpers, “I have no idea where he is, and you, God, are withholding.

I don’t think things will be all quite right til we’re together. I feel like we’ve been separated. My partner in crime. And this isn’t about co-dependency. I’ve been bloody getting on with it for the past five years alone.

Cuz I can’t do this on my own. No, scrap that. I don’t want to do this on my own.

‘Savour the waiting’ they say. Fuck that! I can’t! It’s endless waiting. When. When?? When will I get mine? If this is an exercise in patience then you’ve got me good because it’s been years since i’ve felt much more than a tremor, years since i’ve been kissed, years since anyone remotely chemistry-bound has been across my radar. And i’ve been out there. I’ve been in different situations, clubs, sports groups, creative groups, and NOTHING.”

I gaze mutely at my hands in my lap. For once, as her guardian angel, I feel useless and unable to do anything to protect her heart which is breaking, now.

“I wanna feel the weight, warmth, skin of his body all around me. His hands covering every part of me.  I wanna look in his eyes when we make love, when we whisper, when we connect. i feel almost dead without those things. Don’t deny me these things, they’re important to me.

I’m asking you plainly openly without any barriers to bring me my goddamn man to love, enjoy, hold, play with, and open up to. Else I swear I’m gonna start ripping people’s heads off and roaring at the moon.”

My attention snaps back to her and I see a bittersweet smile play on her lips, as she folds her arms across her chest, warming her heart.

“All the bloody best…” she whispers, and pauses for a moment, her thoughts plaguing her. The silence of the dark seems to prompt a fresh bout of tears.

"I’m here," I say softly, and brush my fingertips uselessly through her hair.

I’ve never seen her this upset before. Not since…

Five years ago, she broke up with her previous boyfriend. She had lain in bed, clutching her heart as she cried, and I had curled up behind her, singing her lullabies to help her calm.

I must confess I had been glad when they broke up. Not glad for her pain, but glad that she had not committed herself to him any further.  
I was hoping, maybe, she had created some space for me.

Her angel.

Now as she cries herself to sleep, her hearts yearning pulls at mine, and maddens me.

I want to be that man.

Perhaps I even _am_ that man.

Right here, at her side, as always, and yet - invisible.

As she finally exhausts herself into a broken slumber, I creep beside her on the bed, and lie next to her, looking at her features in the moonlight.

_Dear God. For how much longer do I have to keep my love for her to myself?_


	3. Atom Chapter 2: The covenant of holy communication

_Angels, gods and other celestial beings shall not talk openly with human beings. Communication is only permitted via the following means; prompting intuitive ideas in a human, coincidences, visions, symbols, and suggestions._   
_Updated clause 15.4: In the first instance, if a human being calls out for their angel in pure-hearted need, the angel is permitted to respond and may appear before their human. For subsequent contact, an angel can only converse with **their** human, and only when their human initiates contact. - The Complete Treaties of Angels_

______________________

**_OC_ **

A white feather. Larger than a swans. On the pillow next to me, when I woke up.

How did it get there? It looked too big to have come out of my goose-feather pillow, and was placed so perfectly straight it was as if a hand had left it there.

I shuddered, shook my head, and cracked on with my day. I did, however, grab the feather and place it in my bag before I left the house.

________________________

My eyes roved the passengers opposite me on the Victoria line. Headphones in, on their phones, jostling with each other to see who can hog the arm rests. I wasn’t sure where to look.

It’s a London thing.

I glanced at the empty seat next to me, where someone had abandoned a copy of the Evening Standard. Folded in half, the headline read ‘City nurse hailed as children’s angel.’

I smiled to myself. It’s rare to see good news. And the thought of angels, the winged, fantastical variety, have always given me a warm fuzzy feeling.  As a child I was dragged to Church, and most of it passed over my head. But during a school exchange programme, my host family took me to Church in their rural French town. To the left of the altar was a large sculpture of the Virgin Mary being visited by an angel. The angel was not a cherub, not some fat toddler, but instead a full grown man with the largest wings I’d ever seen. He looked heroic, powerful, as well as kind. The image had stuck in my mind for a long time after that.

And then there was Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The tube carriage lurched to a stop and I hurried to get off, winding through the commuters and tourists, slogging my way up the escalator.

Selfridges was busy, as usual. But I knew exactly where I was headed, and within fifteen minutes had bought the Moleskine notebook and overpriced Alessi corkscrew for my colleague’s leaving presents. I wandered off Oxford Street to get out of the crowds, and ended up on peaceful Wigmore Street.

Nothing happens on Wigmore Street. It just runs along behind Oxford Street, practically void of people, perfect for moments when you want to catch your breath and dawdle for a bit.

Which I did.

I passed some very nice kitchen showrooms for the rich, a chemists, then stumbled upon a New Age store, its window full of crystals, ‘heal yourself!’ books, dream catchers and a poster for having your past lives read.

A load of cobblers, naturally.

Yet they also had a couple of rows of beautiful gem stone rings - very large rocks set in gleaming silver. The colours were exquisite, and I found myself gazing at them.

A movement behind me caught my eye in the glass reflection, and I looked up to see a tall man behind me, his piercing blue eyes regarding me with wonder. He was wearing a pale blue jumper, and was glowing, slightly.

I whipped my head around, slightly scared, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I turned back to the shop window slowly, half expecting to see his reflection behind mine again, but all I could see was me.

I shuddered, exhaling a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and turned to carry on my way, yet the large sign on the shop door caught my attention.

Under their opening times, scrawled out in black marker pen, was a short list of their ‘services’:

  * _past life regression_
  * _palm reading_
  * _chakra realigning_
  * _meet your angel_



I looked around, wondering if this was some kind of joke. My mind automatically thought of the man I thought I’d seen. Then the angel article. Then the feather. Meet your angel? I had angels on the brain today…

The shop door swung open, and a very smiley woman with dreadlocks pulled high into a bun nodded her ‘good day’ to me.

"We have more rings inside, if you’d like to look."

"Umm..," I ponder. She nods politely, then wonders back inside.

"Actually, maybe …," I follow after her. The store is full of books, trinkets, gem stones, and smells a little bit of lavender.

I can’t believe I’m saying this.

"I… I don’t want to _meet_ my angel, but I want to ask you about angels.”

____________________________

_**Thomas** _

I stood by her side, and sighed. I think she had seen me, and was curious. I hope I hadn’t scared her.

She was talking to the two shop girls who were telling her a fair bit of poppycock.

"We can take you through a guided meditation to help you meet your angel." _Don’t listen to them, they’re just trying to get your money._

"All you have to do is ask them to appear, and they will." _It’s not that simple. Not for the first time, at least. Opening the gateway between my world and the human world can only be done when the human is in dire need, and pleads for their angel from the heart. A curious “angel?” while they’re happily eating a biscuit on the bus is not going to cut it._

"Taking a salt bath then praying to your angel by a lighted candle can help." _It’s certainly mood-setting but won’t interrupt the rules of the covenant. Please listen to me, mortal._

She frowns. “Okay, thank you…,” and turns to leave.

"You might want to check out ‘Calling Your Angel’, we have it on offer at the moment," one of the women point out a book stand in the corner of the shop. _You don’t need to read it, darling…  
_

"Just keep practicing imagining your angel, and talking to them. You’ll get the hang of it."

"Thanks for your help, I’ll try that," she waves to them politely.

I groan, and shake my head, following my human out.


	4. Atom Chapter 3: Summoning

_**OC** _

"Angel?"

I sat on my bedroom floor in the dark, a small tealight candle in front of me, feeling like one of the girls from Charmed.

Except I’m old enough to know better.

Nothing. No rustling of the curtains, no knock at the door.

Maybe it’s because I’m not ‘summoning’ in latin or sanskrit or hebrew?

There’s a thought. Imagine if my angel only speaks in some ancient language?

I went to my laptop and started using Google Translate. But then I stopped. I don’t think pigeon-latin is going to cut it.

_____________________

Apart from the odd tourist-trail church, I hadn’t stepped inside a church to pray or do anything ‘holy’ since I was 12.

I sort of wanted to apologise to God. _Sorry for using your place of worship as a means to meet my angel.I might leave a tip in the collection box if it works._

I sat on a hard wooden pew and closed my eyes. _Okay then angel_ , I said in my mind. _Come and get me_.

I sat there for a good twenty minutes. Til my stomach rumbled.

I was soon happily ensconced in the Costa next door.

________________

I thought I saw him in that New Age shop window. _  
_

So I go back to Wigmore Street, to the same spot on the pavement as before, looking at the rings.

This time, I gaze at the glass, as if I’m doing one of those magic-eye pictures.

I can see everything in double. I think I’m going cross-eyed.

"You alright there? Ah, hello again!" Dreadlock shop assistant sluches against the entrance door-frame.

"Ah, yeah, hi," I blink, trying to regain my focus.

"Any luck with your angel?"

"No, no," I fluster. "But I’m not really that bothered about it, you know… just curious."

"Hm," she raises her eyebrows. "Well we do readings and things if you want some help."

"Yep, erm, no, I’m, I’m alright but thanks."

I wonder off, frowning. Maybe that bloke I thought I saw was just my imagination getting overly excited.

That’s what happens when you’ve been single for four years and haven’t met a guy you fancy in all that time. Your brain starts making things up just so you don’t give up hope. Bloody marvelous thing, the brain is…

"Excuse me, miss." Some straggly looking guy in a parka comes out of a derelict shop doorway. See what I mean? Oh yes, I get fellas coming my way, but they’re always either nuts or greasy desperates…

"Sorry, I’m busy," I walk past quickly, not wanting to get into a conversation with him. I think he’s going to ask me for money.

"Miss, miss, just one minute miss," he carries on, matching his speed to mine, and starts walking into me, maneuvering me towards a shop doorway.

Classic mugger move.

"Can you.. just…," I try to move around him, but he blocks my path, and places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly.

"Just back away," I look him dead in the eyes, and he moves his hand from me.

I exhale, relieved, and start to walk away, when I see a flash of silver.

He has a knife, which he clasps firmly in his hand at his hip.

_Oh jesus_.

I can’t tell if I’m more scared or angry, but I certainly want to get away.

  
I begin to bolt up the street, past the New Age shop, as fast as I can. My parents had told me that if you ever get mugged, you should just hand over your stuff and let them go on their way. But I’m a stubborn little whatsit at the best of times and I simply refuse to do that.

My parents advice was probably the best advice though, as I could hear his heavy footsteps closing in on me, and imagine him reaching out with his weapon to get me.

It makes me feel sick.

If I could only reach Oxford Street, then surely I’d have the safety of the crowds to help.

I keep running, not wanting to look back, but my route is interrupted by traffic as I come to a crossing in the road. He will get me now. He will.

I close my eyes briefly, my teeth grinding slightly, then gasp “angel”.

I hear a loud bang behind me, and whirl around.

The mugger is face-down on the hard concrete pavement, the knife skittering out into the road curb. It looks like he must have tripped up. I turn back to continue the way I was going, and am met with the blue-eyed man I saw in the shop window before. He is tall, in that same soft blue sweater, with faded grey jeans and brown boots. His eyes rove my face, trying to read my expression.

"Run," he orders quietly, and he runs ahead of me, leading me through the pedestrians around the back of Selfridges until we hit Oxford Street. I then lose him.

Damn it.

It is only on the tube back home that I realise.

He had large white wings.


	5. Atom Chapter 4: The Veil is Lifted

_**OC** _

I felt numb on the tube. Even the loud-mouths and space-hoggers didn’t rile me as they usually would do. My mind was flooded with little snapshots of the afternoon. The knife, the wings, my feet rushing under me, cars, eyes, voices…

I rushed home and practically collapsed on the sofa. I needed to process things.

1\. I had nearly been mugged

2\. An angel had saved me.

I’m certain he was an angel. As outlandish as that seems, everything seems to be pointing towards that.

Or my own sort of whimsical insanity. Guess I’d rather be having visions of a cute guy, than monsters.

My legs ache. Hadn’t noticed til now. I toe my shoes off, legs dangling off the side of the sofa, and sigh loudly. “Angel,” I exhale, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Hello."

I shriek, sitting up, and see that blue-sweatered man standing in front of my fireplace, his hands behind his back.

"No," I stutter, not believing this.

"I’m.. sorry if I surprised you, it’s just, you summoned me." He shifts on his feet, and looks down.

"I… really?" Huh?

He nods and looks up sheepishly. “But, I can go if you want, I just thought…,”

I grip the edge of the sofa cushion, my eyes practically falling out of their sockets. “So you _are_ my angel?”

The corner of his mouth lifts a bit into a small smile. “At your service.” He gives a slight bow.

I don’t know what to say.

He begins to walk towards me. “Thomas,” he says, as he crouches down on his haunches in front of me. The ends of his large white wings bow slightly as they rest on the floor behind him.

My mouth falls open. He is beyond… handsome.

"I… I’m…," I try to remember my name, failing as I get lost in his kind eyes.

He smiles ruefully. “I know who you are.”

"Right," I nod, fidgeting with my skirt.

Then I remember.

"Oh God, I’m sorry, I never got a chance to.. thank you, for earlier." I would probably be in hospital now if he hadn’t had intervened.

He nods lightly, rubbing his hands together. “It’s what I’m here for.”

"Hm," I nod back, dumbfounded.

He rubs his palms on his thighs, wiping them against his jeans. “I think you could do with a cup of tea, hey?”

Still speechless here. Sorry.

"Um, I would get it for you but, uh," he turns to the coffee table next to him and attempts to pick up a magazine. His fingers float straight through it. His expression turns apologetic.

I giggle, and stand up, heading towards the kitchen. He follows.

________________________

I munch on a piece of toast, trying to formulate my erratic thoughts. What to ask him? Where to start?

"I’m not going anywhere," he says softly, stroking his chin with his thumb as he stands by the fridge.

I look at him, and nod. That’s good.

"Is it true, all the stuff about angels…?" My eloquence has gone out of the window. Please bear with me.

"Do you mean the things you learnt at the spiritual shop?"

"You were there?" I set my toast down on the small plate on the counter, incredulous.

"I’m always here," he practically whispers, his eyes wistful.

I swallow. “So, even when I can’t see you, you’re around?”

"Yep," he shrugs, and bites his lower lip.

"Even when I go to the toilet?" I frown. That would be disconcerting.

He raises an eyebrow. “No, no I give you personal privacy, of course.”

I nod. Good.

"How long have you been… following me around?"

"Well, I wouldn’t phrase it quite like that. Guarding you." He thinks, a small smile playing on his lips. "Since you were born."

I gasp. Wow. All this time. I had no idea. I’d sometimes liked to have thought that something like guardian angels did exist, but never really thought it to be true.

"A long time." He muses, and steps towards me. "Would you like me to give you some space? Do you need some time to… let things sink in?"

I open my mouth to speak. Nope, nothing.

"I’ll still be around, as I always have been, just, invisible. Call me if you want to speak with me." He begins to fade, then stops.

"I’m sorry, again. I know this is probably all a bit much. I’m.. I’m really pleased to finally meet you." He smiles coyly, then vanishes.


	6. Atom Chapter 5: Uncomfortable

_**OC** _

Paranoid.

I knew he was around, but I didn’t know exactly where.

He could be on my sofa, or looking through my DVDs. He could be right in front of me, right now. I had no idea! It made me feel uncomfortable, and watched. Like a member of the Big Brother house.

Yet there was no escape, really, was there? If I left the house, Thomas would follow.

I busied myself in the kitchen making dinner, trying to act as if I was alone, as I’d thought I had always been. Yet every little noise that I didn’t make - a tree branch brushing the window pane outside, the door creaking slightly behind me - all made me jump and think of him.

I took my food with me to the living room and curled up on the sofa, watching Top Gear on my laptop.

But I wasn’t concentrating. My eyes kept flitting about the room, wondering where Thomas might be. I was finding it hard to eat, every mouthful feeling stodgy in my belly, and I set my plate down on the coffee table.

"Fine," I mumbled to myself, knowing also that he could hear me. "Thomas?"

He instantly appeared, standing near me by the sofa, smiling slightly. Before he had a chance to speak, I raised a hand to stop him, and said my piece.

"I’m okay, and I don’t need any help, it’s just freaking me out having you invisibly… _lurk_ around.”

His face falls a little. “I don’t lurk. I guard over you.”

"Okay..," I concede, and pause Top Gear. "Well, could you stay visible? Or is that not how this works?"

"I don’t want to distract you," he says quietly, and I laugh.

"If you’re invisible, I spend the whole time wondering where you are. So I think either way you could be distracting. I think I’d prefer to have you where I can see you. Most of the time."

He nods, and turns to sit beside me. I shuffle a little, until my thigh is next to his, however I can’t feel him at all.

His eyes look at me warily.

"Right…. well, I guess I’ll get back to my show then," I mutter, and sink back into the sofa to relax. Thomas’s attention does not waver from my face. I blush from the intensity of his gaze. Maybe having him visible is not such a good idea after all.

____________________________

_**Thomas** _

Things hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped they would.

Although my hopes might have been a little too optimistic. _ **  
**_

Whilst I had spend years getting to know and fall in love with her, she had only just met me, and of course her feelings towards me were somewhat ambivalent, at best.

A part of me had naively wished that it would have been mutual love at first sight.

Instead, I had been left with an ache inside of me as I watched her struggle with having me around.

Despite asking me to be visible more, she had actually been calling me visible, then invisible, back and forth, like playing with a light switch.

The bedroom was a no-go area for me to be visible. Whenever she was checking emails, again, she made me invisible. She didn’t like having me visible in public either - it seemed to make her fluster and feel self-conscious.

So I would invisibly steer her from the paths of crooks, invisibly prevent her from getting run over, invisibly protect her from stepping onto a bit of broken glass on the pavement. She remained maddeningly unaware.

Don’t get me wrong, this is my job, and thanks is not expected. It should be enough to keep your human safe and be grateful for that. Yet I did want her to know that whilst part of me did these things out of duty, a part of me also did these things out of love.

When I _was_ visible around her, I decided to let her take the lead when it came to conversation. I was very gentle with her, letting her be the one to ask questions. Mostly she was curious about my life as an angel, and my life prior to becoming an angel. I told her openly and honestly, and she seemed satisfied.

But I was left wanting.

I wanted to know how she felt about me. And I wanted her to ask me about how I felt about her.

She had a wall built around her heart, and even though I was proving my loyalty, and trustworthiness, daily, she was still reticent to share with me anything personal or heartfelt.

_________________________

We were on the bus back from another man-hunt. This time it had been a social for board-sports enthusiasts in London. Lots of graphic designers, advertising execs and teachers who went surfing at weekends, and sometimes use longboards to get to work.

My human had turned up with enthusiasm, and had left with confusion.

As the evening had progressed, I’d watched her circulate the small pub room, nodding and smiling politely as someone retold their surf trip to Hawaii, or how they’d got the scars on their legs, and now and then her eyes would appear vacant. Wistful..

She seemed interested in their stories, yet not riveted by anyone, and I wondered if she would come away thinking that she would rather go on her own surf adventure than hang out with them again.

"Angel?" she whispered, and I appeared, sitting next to her on the bus.

"You okay?" I looked at her face carefully. She looked tired. Not bed-tired; the kind of tired when someone is ready to throw in the towel.

She looked around at the other passengers. There were only a few, most of which had their back to her.

"Stay with me," she quickly murmured, and I nodded gratefully.

_____________________

I watched quietly as she tore off her Chuck Taylors, and stomped to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. As always, I stayed outside in the hallway.

A moment later, I hear her.

"I’m sorry, angel," she sighs.

I lean my head in close to the door to hear her better. “For what?”

"For not being the best person to have to watch over," she says sadly.

I smile to myself. “I wouldn’t want to guard anyone else.”

I hear shifting sounds, then her small voice. “Really?”

"Really." I mean it.

I hear her sniff, then the sound of tissue tearing.

Tentatively I ask, “would you let me come in?”

There’s silence, then the dull sound of footsteps, then the door opens.

Her eyes are teary, and her mouth wavers from a sad frown to a smile. She clutches a twisted piece of toilet tissue in her hand.

"Hey," I say gently, and she starts sobbing. Confused, I follow her as she walks back into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet lid.

"I’m sorry," she keeps repeating, turning her head as she dabs at her eyes with the tissue. "I don’t know what’s got into me tonight."

"It’s okay," I kneel in front of her, as I have done, invisibly, many times before.

______________

_**OC** _

The truth is, I _do_ know what’s got to me tonight. Not just tonight, but these past couple of days since having Thomas around. I’m just too scared to admit it.

Once I got over the initial shock of having him guard over me, I grew to love it. I loved the idea of it, I loved his presence, I loved that someone had my back. I felt secure in a way I hadn’t for a long time.

He was also remarkably good-looking, and I was not used to having so much genuine attention paid to me by someone who looks like _that_.

When it comes to men, I tend to be on guard, until I know I can trust them. With Thomas, that guard fell pretty quickly. He’d been guarding over me for years, effectively saved me from that mugger, and God knows if he has saved my life in other ways throughout my life that I was unaware of.

He had been incredibly respectful of my wishes, and to be honest I had dicked him about a bit. I felt bad about that. Calling to him, then asking him to go invisible. I felt capricious and mean-spirited.

But I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to handle the situation.

He was getting to me. Whenever I felt down, even just a smidge, like when I realised I had no tea left in the house, my mind would automatically think to call him. His presence was enough. Just knowing he was there made me feel better.

I couldn’t say it was love. I didn’t know the guy well enough for it to be that. But something within me wanted to call to him more than I care to admit.

So I thought, alright, I can’t fall for my angel. He’s like an apparition, and I’m sure angels don’t fall for humans. How could they? At least when I thought of Thomas, all I could see was this glowing, winged vision of perfection. Then I thought of me.

I can’t see it, the two of us ‘together’. I really can’t. He’s probably married to some supermodel angel anyways.

I need to distract myself from him.

So I strapped my big girl boots on and decided to keep on with my quest for an actual man, made out of meat and human stuff, in the hope that true love can exist for me and is waiting for me somewhere. All I have to do is put myself out there and fate will step in and BAM.

Which led to tonight’s expedition.

But the whole time there my mind kept drifting to Thomas. I nearly even called to him. I wanted to have him at my side. Oh the people there were nice enough, and I did enjoy listening to their tales, but my mind kept raking back to my angel.

And despite wishing that there would be a ‘click’ moment with someone at the pub, I think my heart wanted to go home and be with Thomas.

Which is why I’m now crying ugly tears, sitting on this toilet seat.

And I don’t really know how to tell him what’s going on with me. Because it doesn’t even make that much sense to me.

He watches me quietly, patiently, as I cry the last tears out of my tired eyes. He is too good to me.

"You look exhausted," he says quietly. "Get ready for bed. I’ll sit with you for a while, if you like."

He gets up and leaves, shutting the door over behind him.

And as I go to the sink to get washed, I can;t help but feel a wave of apprehension.

I know that as soon as I’m with him again, in my room, I’ll come undone before him. Despite my best efforts at keeping strong and not getting too attached to him, the truth will out.


	7. Atom Chapter 6: I wish a vision was enough

_**OC**_  
  
Thomas lay beside me in bed, his usual intense gaze pinning me to the spot.

The ritual of getting ready for bed had actually helped calm me down, and exhaustion was beginning to set in. Despite wanting to bare my soul to Thomas, the thought of having a heavy heart-to-heart right now didn’t appeal. I just wanted to go to sleep, forget about tonight, and hope that things would be clearer in the morning.

He sniffed next to me, and I looked at him carefully. His eyes are so blue, even in the faded light. I wanted to reach out and stroke his cheek. Knowing full well I would only reach into empty space, I lifted my hand, and tried to trace the outline of his cheek. I felt nothing, and he looked despondently at me.  
  
"I know you want to touch me…," he whispers, swallowing slowly. "I want to touch you too."  
  
I bow my head sadly. This is quite an impossible situation. I shouldn’t even want to touch him.  
  
We lie in silence.  
  
"Hey," his voice encourages me to look at him. He folds his hands under his chin, earnestly looking at me.  
  
"I want to try something," he whispers. "Close your eyes."  
_______________________  
  
We were in my room - my room, as if someone had softened its edges a little and lit some pillar candles. My vision was a little blurry, as if I’d just knocked back a few cocktails. I was still lying on my side in bed, with Thomas beside me.  
  
"Touch me," he says softly, and I reach out.  
  
My eyes widen as my fingers grip his firm shoulder. He smiles.  
  
"Thomas, what’s going on? Is this a dream?"  
  
He lowers his eyes briefly, then looks at me. “More like a vision.”  
  
I feel a warm hand glide across my waist, his arm pulling me to him. “Come here,” he whispers, as he embraces me.  
  
Oh God, I can _feel_ him. Strong, slender arms firmly encasing me, claiming me, a hand gently nudging my head to rest at his chest.  
  
I had forgotten what it felt like to be held like this. It is bliss.  
  
He sighs contentedly, slight vibrations rolling under his chest at my cheek.  
  
"Can you feel me?" he whispers.  
  
I nod, my mouth breaking into a smile. I wrap my arms closer around him, and feel his soft wings brush past my fingers.  
  
"Can you feel _me_?” I ask back.  
  
He kisses the top of my head, making me blush.  
  
"Mmm hmm," he murmurs, and starts trailing his fingers up and down my spine.  
  
I can’t help myself - I start stroking his feathers, fascinated.  
  
"Can you feel anything when I do that?" I wonder.  
  
"It’s like you’re playing with my hair," he says quietly. "Carry on, I’ve never had anyone touch them before."  
  
He extends a wing out a little, the tip beginning to curve around his side, shrouding him in white.  
  
I pull back a little to look in awe. The contrast between his soft feathers and the firm contours of his body is breathtaking.  
  
"Can you fly, then?" I ask, thinking myself a bit stupid to ask such an obvious question.  
  
He purses his lips. “No, actually. Historically angels used to fly, but we now simply decide where we want to be and are instantly taken there.”  
  
"Like teleporting."  
  
"I suppose," he wrinkles his eyebrows. "The wings are now more of a means of identifying who is an angel or not. And I’ve been told that they heighten perception and sensitivity. Bigger wings can help an angel tune in to how their human feels."  
  
"You have big wings," I muse, stroking along the over-sized white tips.  
  
"That I do," he smiles. "All the better for helping you."  
  
We look at each other in silence, and I feel a moment of awkwardness between us. His large eyes keep flitting to my lips, his scent is intoxicating, and being held so securely in his arms - I know I am falling for him.   
  
Surely it can’t be. He’s an angel, a spiritual being. Here to guard over a human, and nothing more. He probably doesn’t have… _urges_. Sworn to celibacy. Devotion to God only. Like a monk.

Or there’s his supermodel angel wife, of course.  
  
I sigh to myself, forgetting he can hear.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
His eyes are full of concern, and his attention towards me is arousing.

_Stop it!!_  
  
"Um, nothing, nothing, I’m just happy, is all. Happy to be here with you." I pull myself into his arms again, keeping my cheek against his chest so I can’t see his face.  
  
His large warm hands caress my shoulder blades, and he rests his chin on the top of my head.  
  
"I have waited a long time to do this," he murmurs above me. "Every night I watch you sleep and wish I could hold you."  
  
My heart cracks open, just a little bit. I didn’t know he did that.  
  
"As your guardian, the closer I am to you, the happier and peaceful I feel."

No one has ever made me feel so cherished before. It makes me feel sad. Sad that I’ve spent so long wanting to feel this, and never been able to feel it. Sad that this isn’t real, and that when I open my eyes he will just be an apparition again. Sad that I can’t love him, not really.  
  
"I like your hugs," I mumble, sounding about 8.  
  
He chuckles gently around me. “I love holding you.”

________________________________  
  
God damn alarm!  
  
I hurl my arm out and strike the crappy little clock, sitting up in bed with a grumble.  
  
That was a great night’s sleep, that was. Could have carried on snoozing, to be honest.  
  
I stretch, trying to remember if I had any dreams.  
  
Nope.  
  
I hit the bathroom, and enjoy brushing my teeth. Sometimes there’s nothing better than that fresh cool minty taste.

I’m watching myself make odd faces in the mirror as my head tilts while I brush my wisdom teeth, and then I remember.  
  
I’m sure I dreamt about Thomas last night.  
  
I start to remember what happened last night, with the crying. Oh god yes I remember now,  he had lain with me before I fell asleep.

I fidget a bit, wondering if he’s nearby.  It’s gonna be awkward seeing him today.


	8. Atom Chapter 7: The Conversation

_**Thomas** _

As she had slept, I found myself questioning whether it had been a good idea to have created a vision for her. At the time I couldn’t help myself - she seemed so down and alone. And I admit that I had my own personal wish to be close to her. But it may have been too much.

By God, it had felt _wonderful_.

Being able to guard her, as her angel, is in itself a blessing.

But to finally have some sense of what it would be like to hold her - _unforgettable_.

I had felt so close to her, and sensed that perhaps she was warming to me at last. I sincerely hope it to be true.

And with that, I hope that she will voice her worries to me, and not keep them locked away. To let me know what was the cause of those tears last night. I can’t look after my human if she won’t let me in.

I stayed on her bed during the night, invisible, crooning quietly to soothe her when she mumbled in her sleep. She’s in the bathroom now,brushing her teeth. She seemed perky enough.

I follow her downstairs into the kitchen, where she clatters about making cereal and orange juice. She then goes to the living room, and sits on the sofa in her pyjamas to eat.

I sit next to her, and wonder when she’ll call out to me.

Uselessly I whisper to her _hey, I’m here_ , but she concentrates on her cereal, unaware. It’s frustrating. I swallow, and just watch her, silently.  
_______________________

It had been a painfully long day.

Painful because she had not summoned me, and also because I watched her wrestle with herself throughout the day, and had been unable to help her.

Whenever she’s worried, truly worried about something, she grinds her teeth, and sometimes chews on the inside of her lip. She’ll seem distracted, even when she’s doing something - she acts on auto-pilot while her mind is elsewhere. She doesn’t smile as much, and that pains me.

She hadn’t told anyone about her thoughts, simply soldiering on through the working day until home time, so I still had no clue what was going on in my dear human’s mind.

On the busy tube home, I leant in close to her as she stood in the vestibule of the carriage, clinging to the bar for balance. “Please talk to me,” I asked, looking in her eyes, a glimmer of hope in me that perhaps she can hear or see me.

 I watched sadly as she blinked and turned her head away.   
  
___________________

“Thomas.”

I appeared before her, thanking God under my breath.

She was sitting on her bed, in a sweater and jeans, her work clothes now unceremoniously piled up on the back of her chair.

She looked at me unsteadily, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“I’m here,” I knelt down, closer to her eye level, and bowed my head.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and I looked up, hoping to see her smile.

She remained distracted.

“How can I help you?” I ask, hoping she’ll tell me, and bring me out of this feeling of uselessness that’s carried with me all day.

She crosses her legs, and I can see her wrestling with her thoughts as she ponders what to say.

I want to reach out and touch her knee, to reassure her.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly, waiting.

Her eyes meet mine, and I see a tiny, tiny smile.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

I frown. “Why would you say that?”

“For just… crying on you and hugging you and basically using you,” she looks down and sighs.

I raise an eyebrow. “I’d be a pretty poor excuse for an angel if you couldn’t cry with me, wouldn’t I?”

She laughs faintly. “I guess…”. She pulls the ends of her sweater sleeves over her hands. “I just… I have a lot going on in my mind right now, and… I’m trying to make sense of it all. And I can‘t seem to”

She looks at me, her expression apologetic.

“It’s okay,” I nod. “Why don’t we start at the beginning, then? What happened last night, at the social?”

“Nothing…,” she mumbles, and her eyes dart down to her lap. I give her a moment. She’s thinking.

“I…,” she begins, and sighs. “I’ve been trying to… oh God this is gonna sound desperate…,” she squirms and looks at me for reassurance. “I’ve been trying to find a man… I… I’ve been single for a while now and it can be hard in this city to find good men… and internet dating isn’t for me, so I thought I’d just ‘get out there’ and mix with lots of different people, in the hope that one day he might…,” she shakes her head a little, trying to find the right word. “Appear.”

I smile weakly, and bow my head for a moment.

“And it’s not working.” Her voice sounds full of doubt, almost as if someone’s told her that the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow she’s been walking on was never really there.

She rubs her eyes, tired.

“And then… I got to thinking about how I feel when I’m around you.”

I swallow.

“Even while I was at the social, I was… thinking I’d feel happier and safer back home. With you.”

“Ah,” I nod, biting my lip. “Are you happier with me, though? You seem so sad sometimes.”

She looks at me for a moment, her eyes widening, and she uncrosses her legs, leaning forward slightly to be closer to me.

“Thomas - it’s not you that’s making me sad. Not really.” She dips her head, and sighs. “Damn it, why is it so hard to say this…,” she murmurs, and I shift on the floor from my knees to sit cross-legged in front of her.

“I… I sometimes think I expect a lot from men, and maybe I’m holding out for someone who doesn’t exist. But then you appeared. And…,” She can’t look at me, but I silently let her try to explain.

“For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, I feel like I have a safe place to call home.” She lets out a long breath. “And I feel it whenever you’re around. And it’s crazy because I haven’t known you long. _Ha_ , and yes, you’re an angel. And so I can’t have feelings for you. So this is just hopeless.”

She sighs, propping her head up in her hands, still not looking at me.

  
I say her name gently, and get up to sit next to her on the bed. If I could hold her hand, I would. As it is, I simply look at her.

“Thank you for telling me,” I begin, and she turns her face a little to meet my gaze.  “And _of course_ you must have feelings for me, as you would for anyone. Annoyance, contentment, jealousy, any and all of it.”

She muses on my words, her eyebrows furrowing a little.

“And I have feelings for you, too.” I admit, watching her eyes to gauge her reaction.

“W…what kind of feelings?” she asks, seeming apprehensive.

I bite my tongue, wanting to confess all.

“I like you very much.”

She bows her head. “Well,” she sniffs, “I like you too.”

She nods her head in affirmation but doesn’t look at me, and I feel the desire to tell her I love her wholeheartedly, in the hope it may make her happier, if only a little.


	9. Atom Chapter 8: Together

**_OC_ **

“I promise I’ll behave,” he nods his head contritely, hands clasped behind his back.

My lips quirk up into a smile. “Okay then, fine.”

He’s just persuaded me to let him be visible _all the time_.

He promised not to lurk, or to overly-watch, and instead be more like a companion.

And whilst I couldn’t touch him, it certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing to be able to look at him throughout the day…

And so it began.

When we were out in public, he tended to be at my side, or slightly behind me, and every now and then he would whisper things to me like “cross the road now,” or “keep clear from that man”. It was like having my intuition or gut talk to me, but this time instead of it being a hunch, it was a gorgeous man with a breathy low voice at my ear.

He didn’t _just_ give me little instructions or warnings. He also commented on things from time to time, like if the light was making my hair look particularly reddish or drawing my attention to a beautiful sunset.

We were in the supermarket, and I was perusing tins of soup when he leant in to whisper “that man in the checked shirt is checking you out.” I giggled and looked around to see some guy a little further down the aisle looking my way, although as soon as he saw me looking at him he turned and walked off.

Thomas looked sheepishly at me.

“Does he get the angel seal of approval?” I whisper to him, and he looks down at the floor, shuffling his feet.

“Well he seemed a nice enough guy I suppose….”.

I smile to myself. “Hey,” I whisper to Thomas, and he looks up, frowning slightly. “I’m not interested in anyone else.”

He holds my gaze, and it’s as if the world is blurring, except for his face. I take a big breath of air.

“Only you.”

I smile nervously, then look back at the shelves of tinned goods. Oh crap. Now what. How’s he going to respond? Have I just massively embarrassed myself? Did he draw my attention to that guy in the checked shirt because he genuinely wants me to find a decent mortal human man to…

“I want you,” he whispers into my ear, and I practically drop the can of soup in my hand.

“Yo… you do?” I stutter, not yet able to look at him.

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I thought perhaps you knew….”

My jaw drops.

“I… I thought maybe angels don’t have those sort of feelings,” I settle the soup can back on the shelf with a trembling hand. “Or that it wasn’t allowed. Or that maybe you had an angel wife?”

He chuckles at my ear, and I look around nervously, wondering if anyone is around to witness me essentially talking to myself like a crazy person.

“Come,” he murmurs, and I turn to watch him pull away from me, beckoning to me with his finger. “Let’s finish this conversation at home.”

I was half tempted to dump my basket somewhere and go home without any food. Instead I raced to the tills.

At the tills Thomas stood next to me, looking at me as if he were about to eat me. I felt a hot flush surge through my body, my cheeks reddening, and tried to focus on placing my items on the conveyor built. He said my name in a low voice, and I took a breathe before bravely raising my eyes to his. He winked at me, then disappeared.

The whole way home I had a giddy feeling inside. I couldn’t tell if I was excited or nervous. This was a side of him that I had never seen before, and one that I hadn’t expected.

I closed the front door behind me, letting my bags sit on the hallway floor, and tentatively said his name.

Nothing.

“Thomas?” I repeated, wandering into the living room.

Nope.

“Come on, you’re my angel, you’re meant to come when I summon you…,” I mutter under my breath, my nerves starting to dissipate and instead a little bit of worry sets in. Where is he?

I frown, and go back to get the shopping bags to unpack.

My mind whirls as I pack away my groceries. Did he _really_ come on to me, or did I just imagine that, just wishful thinking on my part? I was kind of ready to talk… but now he’s not here? Huh?

I chew my lip, and open a packet of chocolate-covered cookies. This might take my mind off things…

And you know what? I feel a teeny bit better.

My angel likes me, and at some point, soon, hopefully, I’ll get to see him and find out more.

In the meantime I’m not gonna be sad or worried. I’m going to relax.

I shuffle out of my shoes in the hallway, then go to my room to fetch my laptop, finishing off my cookie as I go.

At my desk, I pause for a moment, wondering if I’ve left the adapter downstairs.

“Your breath smells of chocolate,” Thomas whispers in my ear.


	10. Atom Chapter 9: No Going Back

_**OC** _

“Holy crap!” I lean against the side of my desk to steady myself. I close my eyes briefly to get my sense of balance back.

“I’m sorry,” his voice is small and contrite at my ear. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I gasp, “Blimmin’ ‘eck Thomas…,” I start to giggle, glad that he’s with me again and turn to look at him. He gazes at me carefully, trying to read my expression.

“Why didn’t you come when I called you earlier?”

His eyebrows knit together and he blinks. “I wanted to surprise you.”

I grin. “Naughty angel…”

He giggles at that, and I swear I see his cheeks flush pink.

He takes a step back towards my bed.

“Sit with me,” his eyes plead with me, and I join him on the edge of the bed, his wings folding behind him.

His gaze does not waver from mine, and I fear that the longer I look at him the more I will want to touch him - to stroke his soft cheeks lined with the tiniest of hairs, to brush the end of my nose against his, to feel his pink lips pushing next to mine…

I look away, down at my hands.

“You don’t have an angel wife, then…,” I start, sounding utterly ridiculous to myself.

I hear him chuckle softly next to me, and he leans in to whisper “no,” in my ear.

A thrill goes down my spine.

I hear him breathing at my ear, and it takes all my inner resolve to concentrate on what I’m saying.

“Do you _really_ like m…,”

“Yes,” he whispers. “I really do. More than you know.”

I gulp.

“I love you.” His words hang in the air.

I close my eyes, letting his words sink in.

“I want you,” he continues, the sound of his gravely murmurs sending pulses of energy down to my core. “Please say that you want me too.”

All I can do is manage a nod.

“Please,” he breathes, and I almost fall off the bed.

“Lie down,” he murmurs, and I do so, shimmying up the bed a little so my legs are no longer hanging off at the end. Thomas crawls up to lie beside me on his side, looking down at me.

His leans down, his face so close to mine, eyes wandering across my features, reverentially.

“I wish I could touch you,” he whispers, his voice so soft and warm like a lullaby. “Every inch of you.”

I notice my chest rising and falling as I pant. I want him to touch me too.

But I appear to have gone mute.

He begins to lower himself down over me, looking intently at me - my shoulders, down to my breasts, then along my stomach towards my hips. His eyes are full of wonder and longing. He makes me want to…

…. let him see.

I wriggle my shirt over my head, and he rests back a little, taking me in.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, his blue eyes watching as I move to take off my bra.

And it feels wonderful to share this with him.

He simply leans over me again, this time gazing at my now exposed nipples, then back up to my face, wetting his bottom lip a little with his tongue.

I writhe under him, wishing I could feel his body heat next to me.

He inches his way up to me, his face above mine now.

“Close your eyes.”  
__________________________________

"Hello, you," he smiles down at me, and I’m still topless on my bed, yet everything is a little blurry. I instinctively reach up to run my fingertip along his soft jaw line. I can touch him.

“Is this a vision?” I ask meekly, and in return he nods gently, leaning down to nuzzle in for a kiss. His lips are smooth, gentle, persistent, and hungry. My body relents to his touch and I relax as his tongue begins to peek between my lips, opening me.

"Thomas," I gasp against his mouth, and he pulls my arms up over my head, grasping me at the wrists to pin me back against the mattress.

He pushes his body flush against mine and I realise he is naked.  
  
I grind my hips against his, feeling the tips of his wings flutter here and there against my sides, and let my tongue roll next to his. Oh how my soul has missed being loved like this…

And I have a realisation.

Amongst the erotic charge, I also feel deeply at peace.

This feeling of sheer presence, right here, right now, with my mind empty, and my heart feeling… _full_.

It reminds me of when I’ve prayed, or been at my lowest, and something inside me (or… above me?) has held me together. A feeling of sureness despite whatever is crashing down around me.

Thomas is that.

His hips grind back rhythmically, and his tongue pushes fully in and out of my mouth in time, flexible and searching. I desperately want to stroke his wings, but he keeps my hands in place.  
  
Panting, his mouth begins to move down along my throat, nipping and lapping softly as he descends across to my collarbone, then slowly sliding his tongue down down to the crest of my breast, taking the peak of my nipple between his teeth and tugging gently. I gasp, my hands flexing in his grip.  
  
"Thomas, please," I murmur, as he suckles at me, his eyes never straying from mine, appraising my desire. Not only is there dark lust in his blue eyes, but also deep love. I can’t look away.  
  
He rocks his hips more forcefully against mine, and I feel his hard length press next me. Oh God yes, I want this.  
  
My nipple slips out of his mouth, puckering and wet, and he begins nibbling at the underside of my breast. The grip around my wrists loosens as he lets me go, crawling down my body, his head travelling towards my denim-clad crotch. He carefully undoes the fly and helps me wriggle out of my jeans, taking my panties down with them.

I close my eyes and thrash my head to the side in anticipation.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the top of my hairs as he speaks.

Then  
  
Nothing.  
  
I feel cold, his body warmth leaving me, and I open my eyes.  
  
I am alone in my dark, empty room. My duvet is piled at the bottom of the bed, and I grab it to cover myself.  
  
"Thomas?" I ask, and there is nothing.  
  
"Thomas?"


	11. Atom Chapter 10: Riling God

_**Thomas** _

“He’s not happy with you.”

“Well, _obviously_ ,” I jig my leg up and down as I wait to go in. Benedict smirks.

“Can’t you just pretend you don’t care about the girl? I’m sure there are other angels who would happily put out for you…”

“Benedict this isn’t about ‘putting out’,” I growl, wondering why _he_ has to be sitting next to me of all people. “Don’t you have someone you should be guarding?”

“Nope” he enunciates the ‘p’ with a pop, and relaxes in his seat. “Not born yet.”

“So you thought you’d just lurk around outside Gods chamber instead.”

He stretches his legs out languidly and shrugs emphatically. “Why not?”

The chamber doors open with a loud groan, and I stand. I know what’s coming.

“Good luck old chap,” Benedict waves as I pass.

And in an irritating high song song voices adds “you’re going to need it..”

  
————

“ _Thomas._ ”

His loud voice booms, and I am slightly taken aback by the sound.

I sway slightly on the spot and take a deep breath. “Yes, Lord.”

“Do you know why I have summoned you here today?” He leans forward on his throne.

“I…,” I lower my head as his gaze bores into me. “Yes, Lord”.

“And so you will not be surprised as to what I have to say.” He pauses and I look up, swallowing. I’m unsure whether I’m supposed to speak or not.

“I am very disappointed in you, Thomas.” He wipes his brow with his hand, and rises.

“You have always been an excellent guardian. I dare say I always thought of you as noble, trustworthy, a role model for new angels. However I find myself wondering whether this is so.”

He sighs and steps down from his thrown towards me.

“I.. I am trustworthy…,” I begin, not wanting to have displeased him.

“You know the rules, Thomas.” He shouts, his arm raising in frustration. “Angels are not to seduce humans. They are to guard over their human charge, guiding them to make the the best decisions possible, _including_ guiding them on the path to the right secular partnership.”

I grind my teeth, biting back volatile words that threaten to escape my mouth.

His voice softens a little.”I can understand why you like her, Thomas. She has a good soul. But she is not meant for you. You are simply to watch over her as she journeys through life, and continue to guard her during any future partnerships she may have. Is that clear?”

God stands before me, his eyes now calm yet still determined.

“What if she never finds true love?”

He scowls. “Thomas….,”

_It’s a fair question_.

“She may find true love in me, in friendship, in life itself, in pets and nature and music. She will always have love around her.”

“What about the love of a man who cares for her so deeply that it would be an unholy waste for her to not have it?” The words rush for me before I have thought to stop them.

He stands motionless, glaring at me with displeasure.

“And I suppose that man would be you, would it Thomas?” He snaps, making me flinch.

“Look at you!” He roars, his face jutting forward to me, and I instinctively step back, my wings ruffling.

“You are a celestial being created by _me_ , Thomas, to do my work on earth as a guardian angel. You do _not_ waver from that duty, no matter how strongly you feel towards her. You will care for her and you will keep her from harm, no more.”

He places his hands firmly on my shoulders and squeezes. “Do not go any further down that path, Thomas. As your God I command you. And as a friend, I advise you. She is not worth it.”

Those words snap something in my brain and I lose it.

“ _Not worth it_?!” I snarl, swiping his arms away from me. “You think love isn’t _worth_ anything? You prattle on about how love is the most important thing yet you want me to suppress mine in the line of duty? What good is her welfare without love? I have to watch her in tears as her heart breaks. For _me_. I have the love, for her, that she needs, so….”

“ENOUGH,” he shouts. “Enough of this … insolence, and ingratitude. I gave you a fair warning, Thomas. I have been reasonable. But I cannot let this insubordination continue, and _this_ may never happen again.”

He turns his back to me and strides back to his thrown.

“You need to spend some time considering your actions. Perhaps re-reading the Treaties of Angels will help remind you of your duties. “

He sinks down heavily onto the thrown.

“I do not want to have this conversation with you again, Thomas. Mark my words.”


	12. Atom Chapter 11: Apart

_The bond between angels and their humans is sacred, and the purest torture anyone can use to punish an angel is to keep them from their human - The Book of Sacred Beings_

_**Benedict** _

My ward had not yet arrived. On his jolly way, apparently, though the little shit was kicking and screaming to stay in its dear mummy’s womb.

So angel Zachary was guarding over the mother and child until the ruddy-faced babe deigned to start its journey through the birth canal, which is when I would step in.

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the next few years. I can handle being an infant’s guardian angel, anyone can warm up to that (although the incessant screaming… christ). However, having to share a roof not only with the mother and father but also _Zachary_ …

In the interim I had been sent _here_ to guard over Thomas’ human. Silly sod. Never get involved with your human.

When I found her she was calling out for him. If she had said the magic word “Angel” then I would have happily spoken with her and told her that her muppet of a guardian had fudged up massively by trying to eat her out in a vision. God doesn’t stand for that sort of thing.

Though I have to admire Thomas’s balls for doing that.

But instead, she’d just called _his_ name over and over. I can’t answer to ’Thomas’. So I’m happily playing the invisible guardian for a while and I hope that’s the way things will play out until Thomas gets his sorry arse back here.

Eventually, after much wailing, she fell asleep.

She’s quite pretty, though not my cup of tea, and certainly not _enthralling_. Thomas thinks she’s enthralling. Bloody riveting, my arse.

I settle into her desk chair and carry on with my sudoku. I swear to God that sudoku was invented for angels to pass these sodding dull long evenings. I mean, do humans really need guarding over in their sleep? For the most part there aren’t any lions at their doors (unless you get stationed in Africa, which would be a hoot), and the only thing to guard them from is the odd spider or even house mice.

God, send me to Africa.

______________

**_Narrator_ **

The cell was celestial enough - white, blank walls, a small barred window where, if Thomas stood at full height on his tip toes he could view soft clouds. A single bed, furnished with soft white feather and fur covers, and he had been gifted two books - the Book of Sacred Beings and the Complete Treaties of Angels.

For a human being, this prison of sorts would not be so bad. Humans had suffered at worse conditions - no bed, dark, damp cells, no view outside, nothing to read. Torture, even - physical torment, food deprivation, sensory or emotional tricks to send them mad.

He didn’t have to endure any of that.

Yet in this simple clean white room, Thomas was dying.

At first, his resolve had been strong. Parted from her, yes, but it would be temporary, and he could handle it. Someone else would guard her while he served his punishment, so he knew she would be safe.

Yet every part of his physiology cried out for her, his human, and his mental toughness became betrayed by the coursing screams of his blood, his soul, and his delicate senses.

By the end of the second day, he had broken down.

He knelt by the cell door, screaming her name over and over, his throat reddening and eyes watering with the ferocity of his need. Human beings speak of the need to be with their beloved in their songs, poems, films. There was very little truth to their claims - if two lovers part, they will be glim for a while, then soldier on. For an angel to be apart from their human - it is literally as painful as cutting off one of their limbs and leaving them to bleed to death.

He howls through loud sobs, banging against the door, his knuckles beginning to bleed against the rough wood. He can hardly breathe through his tears, desperation creating an awkward tension in his muscles as he contracts his body, balling himself up instinctively, his chest shaking as he dry heaves.

"Help me," he cries, pitifully, knowing that no one will. "Father, how could you do this to me?"

On the third day, all Thomas’s energy had left him. His luminous glow had faded, and his wings drooped like dying petals, their tips curling and tattered. He hadn’t been looking after them as he usually would. He sobbed quietly, curled up in a corner of the room, biting his fist occasionally. He couldn’t last this. His mind was consumed by his human, and yet he hadn’t been near her for three days. He was broken.

_________________________

The heavy padded cell door was pulled open, revealing not the corridor he had been marched down before, but instead, his human’s bedroom. She slept soundly, and Benedict, of all angels, sat at her desk, concentrating on a newspaper.

Thomas was at once both giddily relieved, and furious.

______________

**_Benedict_ **

"You look like hell." He really does.

"Is she okay?" Thomas rushes over to her, bending at the waist to appraise her sleeping form.

"Yes, _obviously,_ " you utter nit.

“ _What are you doing?_ " he roars. "You should be guarding over her."

I bristle, setting the newspaper down on my lap, and glare back at him. “I’ve been with her for the past three insufferable days, Thomas. Give a man a break. I’m here, she’s fine, we’re all bloody fine.” Although by the looks of it, maybe Thomas isn’t fine.

He turns back to her, muttering. I can’t quite catch what he says but I’ve little doubt that it’s something derogatory.

"Not ALL angels are in love with her" I throw down my newspaper wearily and rub my eyes. "Christ, Thomas, she’s fine."

He hovers over her, his fingers lingering in her hair, all but gawping at her as she sleeps.

"All the doors are locked, the windows are shut, i’m here, everything is fine." I get up and stretch. "Stop being such an fussy old hen."

He kneels by her bed, staring at her in silence.

"Well i suppose I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it," I roll my eyes. Thomas keeps his back to me, wholly engrossed in his human ward. His wings look a bit dingy. Reminds me to get mine treated soon.

I sigh. There’s no use in prolonging the inevitable. “Go on then, God, do your worst.”

With that, I close my eyes, and find myself in the hospital theatre, next to the doctor, the sound of desperate alien cries filling the room, and I’m viewing what looks like a bloody car crash.

This, THIS is my human ward.

I promptly throw up.

_____________

**_Thomas_ **

"I’m here, I’m here," I croon, shifting myself to sit on the bed next to her sleeping form. Being close, to her, where I belong, comforts me, and I breathe in her scent, feeling my body finally relax. "I have craved you for so long…"

Her presence replenishes me, and the aches begin to dull.

"Silly human," I kiss the top of her head gently, careful not to wake her. "Do you know how much trouble you’re causing me?"

She looks so beautifully peaceful and unaware.

"No, I suppose you don’t..," I mutter, and smile to myself. I have my girl back.

I want to curl around her, wrap my arms around her, and hold her so close to me.

And that’s when the tears started to fall.

"Keep it together, Thomas," I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "Everything’s okay now. You’re where you belong, she is safe, all is well."

But the tears couldn’t stop.


	13. Atom Chapter 12: Resistance

_**OC**_  
  
“ _Where the hell did you go?!_ " I couldn’t tell if I was hurt, furious, worried, upset, betrayed, abandoned… God knows what.  
  
"I’m sorry," he pleads, "I…"  
  
"Three days Thomas, I haven’t seen you in three days. You didn’t answer any of my calls, I thought you’d left me. I thought it was because I…," I look away, feeling stupid. "Because I had done something wrong."  
"What?" he whispers, trying to get me to look at him by shifting his face to meet my gaze.  
  
"In the vision," I moan. "You disappeared just when, just when..," I couldn’t even say it.  
  
"Hey," he says gently, and I watch him try to put his arms around me. I can’t feel it. This brings tears to my eyes.  
  
"I’m sorry," I whimper.  
  
He hushes me, yet my heart aches for him to _hold_ me, firmly, truly, humanly.  
  
Well this is a great start to the morning.

I sit up and rub the tears from my eyes. Despite feeling mixed up inside, I _am_ glad he’s back.  
  
He sits on the bed next to me, his head turned to face me.  
  
"Please, hear me out," he raises a hand for emphasis. "And don’t berate yourself, you have no idea what happened."  
  
I grumble. “Okay.”  
  
He tells me about the Treaties of Angels (most of which went over my head), and about his role as a guardian angel. He tells me about how he was overstepping the mark in our last vision, which meant God had stepped in and taken him away as punishment. He told me about being kept locked away, and the pain it caused him.

And he apologised, profusely, over and over again, and wouldn’t stop, no matter how many times I told him it was okay. It was only when I said “I forgive you,” that he nodded, and sat quietly next to me.  
  
I tried to lift the mood a little. “No more naughties, then.”  
  
"Nope," he hangs his head.  
  
"Just being a good angel now, yeah?" I smile sadly, hoping he isn’t too upset.  
  
"I guess," he says quietly, biting his thumbnail.  
  
"Well, then," I shift to get up. "I should get to work. Coming with me?"

His face brightens a little. “As always. Although, may I be invisible to you, for a while? I need some alone time. Just to catch my breath.”  
  
"Of course," I nod, and smile meekly at him. "I’m sorry about what happened to you."  
  
"I know," he whispers, and gets up with me.  
  
_____________________________________

I was glad that Thomas was invisible for a while. It gave me some time to catch up on my thoughts.  
  
Work kept me busy, yet in any downtime I had, my mind would automatically flip towards thinking of him, and what had happened.  
  
I never meant for him to get into trouble with the big G, over me.

From the sounds of it, it had been an awful punishment, and if we ever slip up again I can only imagine what God may or may not do.  
  
And so, we can’t slip up.  
  
We have to remain platonic.  
  
Can I do that?  
  
I don’t know.

I _want_ him.  
  
But if his welfare is at stake then I’ll have to back off.

Starting now.  
  
No calling for Thomas this afternoon.  
  
_____________________________  
  
  
Before you hate me, I just want it to be clear that it’s the weirdest darn thing to find out one day that you have spent your whole life being watched over by a really handsome angel. Who then professes to love you. Who you can’t hug. Or kiss. Or <ahem> anything else.  
  
It’s like someone serving you the man of your dreams on a silver platter, only to stick a glass pane between you, so you can never actually have him.  
  
It’s taunting, unfair, painful, and exasperating.  
  
Whenever I’ve thought about meeting my soul mate or ‘true love’, I thought we’d get past the ‘meeting’ part. I thought maybe we’d have lazy morning cuddles and jump through puddles and have tickle fights.  
It is not meant to be. God (yes, God!) has firmly put His foot down.  I don’t see how things can work out, even though I desperately wish they could.  
  
And so this afternoon I’ve been trying to distance myself from Thomas. I shouldn’t get too attached. I should probably even try to forget him. That will make it easier for both of us.  
  
Thomas doesn’t make it hard for you to ignore him, however.  
  
I’m at my weakest when I’m daydreaming, or just before I fall asleep.  
  
I was half-asleep on the 59 bus heading home from work, leaning my head against the window, watching the traffic pass by on the other side of the road, when I saw his reflection. He was sitting on the empty seat opposite me, resting his chin in his hand and waved softly, his eyes sad. I closed my eyes, blinked rapidly, and shook my head. I then rustled in my bag and spent the rest of the journey faffing about on my phone, never looking up til I got home.

It had been a long day, so I decided to treat myself to a quiet night in, catching up on TV shows while doing my nails and scoffing an unnatural amount of Cadburys Dairy Milk. I figured it would help keep my mind off off Thomas.  
  
I felt very relaxed, tittering along to Miranda while concentrating on not fudging up the nail varnish on my pinkie toe when I heard him chuckle at my ear.  
  
"Go away," I mumbled, trying to focus on the sound of the telly.  
  
"I want to watch Miranda, too," he protested, sounding hurt.

"Well you can, just keep quiet."  
  
"You don’t want to hear me." His voice is low and sad.  
  
"No."  
  
I turn to where his voice was coming from, and see nothing but the rest of my empty room.  
  
I felt a bit weird for the rest of the evening. I wanted to relax and enjoy my night of doing nothing, but I had this twisted knot in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like being mean to Thomas. In fact, I could do with his company. But I had to focus on the fact that I couldn’t have much more from him, we couldn’t have a ‘real’ relationship, and that things would be better if we didn’t have much to do with each other.

I had an early night. I knew Thomas would be hovering about, waiting for my kryptonite-moment just before I fell asleep, so I played a sleep hypnosis track in my earphones so my mind could be filled with Paul McKenna’s spooky voice rather than hearing Thomas.  
  
It made me fall asleep!  
  
Then I rolled over in the night, waking up momentarily to realise I still had the earphones in. I pulled them out wearily and threw my ipod on the floor.  
  
"I love you," Thomas breathed in my ear, and I covered my ears with my hands.

My heart raced, and I waited for him to continue.  
  
I thought I heart a small sniffing noise, and looked around in the dark, but saw nothing.  
  
__________________  
  
Thomas got more persistent as time wore on. And more creative.  
  
He (it could only be him otherwise I really am cracking up) left a small yellow post-it note on my fridge with the word ‘please’ written on it.  
  
I was at the yoga studio in the hallway, waiting for my class, when a girl walked past me in a vest that said “Say Halo To Your Angel”. I practically groaned.

Went to get some toothpaste - _just off to get toothpaste_ \- and he managed to sabotage that little expedition to Boots. I was scanning the shelves when a small box randomly fell off the bottom shelf next to me. Being the polite citizen I am, I bent down to pick it up and put it back on the shelf. “Angel White Teeth Brightener.”  
  
"Okay, okay Thomas," I muttered, knowing he was near.  
  
I felt his presence behind me.

  
"Talk to me," he said quietly.  
  
And I nearly did.  
  
But I didn’t.  
  
______________________________  
  
Here’s a useful thing to flag up to all you girls out there who are having angel issues: You are susceptible to them around the start of your period. Be warned.  
  
That very same night after the toothpaste incident I found myself clutching a hot water bottle, on the sofa, munching a microwave dinner and wishing I was a boy.

Boys don’t have to put up with this. Angel doesn’t have to put up with this.  
  
I felt altogether lonely. One of those lonely moments. _Wouldn’t it be nice to be held in someone’s arms?_ my brain would go. _I could do with being looked after tonight. Have someone cook me bread and butter pudding_. I just want a nice old-fashioned cry while watching Oxfam adverts and have someone say to me ‘there, there,’ whilst patting my belly.  
  
I was feeling pretty dismal. This is not my finest hour.  
  
"Go get the duvet from the bed."  
  
"Nice suggestion, angel, why don’t you go get it. Oh yeah, you can’t, because, you’re _an angel_.” I was feeling a bit hissy. Sorry.

"I want to help you."  
  
"You can’t." I shut my eyes. _Go away_.  
  
"What can I do to make you feel better?" he asks softly, and I open my eyes. His face is mere inches from mine, blue eyes taking my breath away. I’d forgotten how stunning he is. My guard almost drops.  
  
"You could kiss it better."  
  
He swallows, his eyebrows rising to his forehead. “You know I can’t do that…,” he says gently.  
  
"Then leave me alone." I hug my waist, trying to keep the cramps at bay.  
He vanishes, and even though I couldn’t feel him before, the living room seems emptier and colder without him.  
  
I start crying. I don’t mean to be so cruel to him. I just want a hug and a kiss and some body warmth. Things you can’t get from a microwave dinner, or even from an angel.  
  
My tears of sorrow turn to tears of frustration, and my whirlwind of emotions turn again into anger. Period rage.  
  
I curl up on the sofa, howling. Everything gets mixed up in my mind - i’m angry about being a girl, about being alone, about my feelings for a man who isn’t even real. Everything seems so unfair.

After a while I get bored of feeling mad. Ever had that? You just think, sod this, I’ve wasted the past hour doing nothing and Tesco’s will close in half an hour so I’d better get up if I want to get myself a chocolate ice cream gateau.  
  
I sat up, groaning, and little flickering lights in the corner of my eye grabbed my attention. I whipped my head round to see thick white chunky flecks of snow outside the living room window.  
  
I go to the window and look out across the London street. The road outside is clear - the snow is seemingly only falling literally right outside my window.  
  
In late August.  
  
Thomas.


	14. Atom chapter 13: Choices

_Angels will appear to humans as fleeting, untouchable beings. Angels may be permitted to touch their human wards, however the sense of touch will be vastly muted. This is to prevent temporal angel-human partnerships. - The Book of Sacred Beings_  
  
 _ **Thomas**_  
  
"Just _STOP_ it.”  
  
"Why are you pushing me away?" I tear at my hair, desperately trying to make her understand. “I never meant to hurt you. I want to be _close_ to you. I want you to let me in.” I ball my hands into fists at my sides, the only thing I can do to not reach out and try to touch her.

She had called to me, her tone exasperated, and I had appeared in her living room.

"Do you think I _want_ to push you away?!” she screams, her face red raw with pain. “Does it look that easy for me? Do you know how hard this is, to find out you have a guardian angel that is in love with you and you can’t even touch him?!!! That maybe the man of your dreams actually does exist yet you can’t even kiss him? I want to _hold_ you, Thomas. I can’t just talk to you or see you, I need to _feel_ you. And I can’t.” Her features drop as her eyes rove my face. “I can’t run into your arms. I can’t soothe you. I can’t… I can’t even shove you when I’m angry.”  
  
She moves forward and reaches out, her hands passing through my transparent form.  
  
She crumples to the floor, and I kneel before her.  
  
"Please…please," I murmur, reaching out to stroke her shoulders.

"I can’t _feel_ that, Thomas,” she moans, and raises her eyes to mine. “I love you. You are my _angel_. But I’m in so much pain right now. You’re so near, yet I can’t even touch you.” Her eyes crunch together as fresh tears pour down her reddened cheeks. “I must be going mad.”  
  
She buries her face in her hands, violently sobbing.  
  
I kiss the back of her hands as she cries, murmuring “I love you’s” over and over. She can hear me, I know she can. “Please don’t reject me.”  
  
She sniffles loudly, rubbing her mascara across her temples and then sighs, opening her eyes to meet my gaze.  
  
"Oh God, Thomas. You’re in my heart. And you’re my angel, aren’t you, so…," she sighs again, shaking her head slightly. "You’re sticking with me, whatever happens, right?"

I smile gently through my tears and nod. “Forever.”

She looks down at the floor, and sniffs. “So, um, what are we going to do? Because…,” She pulls her arms around her.  
  
And I wish it was my arms wrapped around her now.  
  
I lean over, trying to hold her in my arms. I can feel some warmth, though I know she won’t feel me.  
  
"I feel it too," I whisper.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"That pain. Of wanting to feel you, but not being able to. I yearn for you"  
  
She is quiet in my arms.

"Thomas… when did you… how long have you… when did you feel love for me?" Her voice is returning to its even sound as she calms.  
  
I muse. “Oh, a long time. I loved you from birth. As a parent would. Then, as you got older, I found you to be the coolest teenager on the block. I was proud to be your angel. When you dyed your hair pink I remember wanting to dye my own hair pink, I was so excited about it.” She chuckles in my arms. I smile sadly, wishing I could feel her properly.  
  
"Then, as you hit your twenties, I became curious. Curious to know what kind of woman you would become. What choices you would make with the freedom of adulthood. How you would navigate the rocks placed in front of you on life’s path. And you never disappointed me."

She shifts, and asks in a quiet voice, “Really?”  
  
"Really." I kiss the top of her head. "You have always astounded me. It’s not easy, being human."  
  
She sighs, and her tired eyes meet mine. “And, um, romantically…?”  
  
I snort back a laugh, and look down. “Well…. _that_ kind of love can sometimes sneak up on you, can’t it?” I smile at her, and she smiles back.  
  
Any sense of panic I had felt earlier left me in that moment.

"There was one moment when I just _knew_. When things changed. And that was when I watched you pray to God for him to deliver your love to you,” I say quietly.

She looks away, swallowing.  
  
"I didn’t know you saw that."  
  
I nod, watching her carefully. “I… I watch over you, as you know, especially when you’re in pain. And it broke my heart. Broke it open when I realised that I was made for you, and that we should be together.”  
  
She stays silent.  
  
"Hey," I say gently. "You okay?"

"I’m sorry," she whimpers.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For being mean to you." She tries to wrap her arms around me but clasps at empty air, and punches at the floor in exasperation. She then lies back on the floor, an arm covering her eyes.  
  
Her words tumble out like a flood. “I only tried to keep you away from me so I wouldn’t fall for you, because I know we cannot be. You’re an angel, I’m a human. I can’t touch you, and you can’t touch me. If we try anything like that again, God will punish you again. I can’t have that.”  
  
She peeks out from under her arm. I smile grimly at her. “I know.”

"Maybe…," she sighs, and begins to sit up. "Maybe we should both pull back. You know, you can keep guarding me and stepping in when I need you, but other than that, no contact."  
  
I make a small noise in the back of my throat. “Please, please, no, I can’t,” I garble, trying to touch her to show her how much I want her - how I want to be more than simply a celestial bodyguard. “I love you.”  
  
She looks into my eyes with such pain, such despair, such confusion that something clicks within me. A way to end both our pain. A resolve I didn’t know I had.  
  
"I never wanted to make you miserable. So I know what I must do."  
  
I stroke my fingertips across the back of her hands, and lean in to kiss her cheek.

"Thomas what is it, you’re scaring me…?" Her eyebrows knit together warily.  
  
"Promise me one thing," I hope to God she does. "Stay here, just for this evening, right here in this room. Don’t move. Grab some snacks, watch a DVD, I don’t care, just please - stay here til midnight."  
  
She nods her head nervously. “Okay, sure, okay. Hey, where are you going?”  
  
I stand. “Don’t worry, you’ll be okay.”

I swallow, thinking about what is about to happen.

_I can’t be her angel anymore._


	15. Atom Chapter 14: Loss

_**Thomas**_  
  
I wasn’t looking forward to seeing God again, not after last time we met.  
  
In all likelihood he wouldn’t be surprised to see me.  
  
I shuffled my feet as I waited outside his chambers, and sighed. Any minute now I would be summoned.  
  
The large ornate carved doors swung open, and Benedict was frogmarched out, flanked by angels. He was trying to shake them off irritably.

I frowned at him, confused, and he met my gaze briefly before flapping his arms and telling the angels to get off him.  
  
"You’re no longer an angel?" I eyed him, noticing the lack of wings.  
  
He huffed. “Yeah, well, apparently I’m not ‘fit for purpose’ so, what are you gonna do, eh.”  
  
I couldn’t help but smirk. He didn’t really have the right temperament for this kind of work.

"So, back to being human again." He straightens his jacket, and continues walking down the corridor.  
  
"Invite me to your wedding," he calls back to me, and I shake my head.  
  
"THOMAS," God’s voice booms through the open doorway. I straighten up, standing tall, and purposefully enter.  
  
_______________________  
  
 ** _OC_**  
  
He’s only been gone ten minutes but it feels like forever. I’m feeling a bit miffed. Where’s he gone? What’s he up to?

We kind of didn’t really resolve anything before he left. We both want each other, and we both can’t have each other, and that’s that.  
  
I scrape my hair back and tie it into a messy bun, and get up to busy myself in the kitchen. Snacks, he said. Well I can do that. Biscuits, toast, oh blast Tesco’s will be closed by now, bye bye gateau.  
  
I dump my wares in a heap on the coffee table. I’m curiously not in the mood for eating right now, and instead go the bathroom.  
  
I get lost in the time warp that is reading-magazines-on-the-loo.  
  
Two copies of the National Geographic later, I freshen up at the sink. Goodness gracious I look lovely tonight. Little black flecks of mascara cover my cheeks, like fancy blackheads, and I have puffy bags under my eyes. I have a small spot flaring on the edge of my jaw. I am every angel’s dream.  
  
I splash cool water on my face and rub off the last remaining bits of my make up with a flannel, before popping back down to my spot for the night in the living room.  
  
Angel angel angel. You are a problem to me. I love you, but you don’t make it easy, do you.  
  
__________________________  
  
About two hours later, I was starting to get fidgety. A lack of proper chocolate pudding was not boding well, so I heaved myself up into the kitchen to make stuff.  
  
I had a packet of chocolate digestives, lots of sugar, chocolate sauce (for ice cream), half a packet of chocolate chips and a bit of leftover brioche.  
  
You can make a hearty meal out of that can’t you.  
  
I bashed up the biscuits and started to fry them in a pan, adding in the chocolate sauce and chocolate chips to make a big ol’ gooey mess. I then chopped up the brioche into cubes and bunged that in as well.  
  
Imagine if Jamie Oliver was on his period. Yeah, that was me.  
  
The kitchen was flooded with the smell of chocolate and for a fleeting moment I was one happy bunny.   
  
I unceremoniously slopped the mess into a large bowl, grabbed the biggest desert spoon I could find, and sat down cross-legged on the living room floor.  
  
Come on Thomas, where are you….?

_____________  
  
I heard him before I felt him.  
  
A contorted scream, not high enough to be a shriek but with the same intensity, crept through my body. I knew it was him.  
  
And then, just as I was raising the chocolate covered spoon to my lips, he appeared.  
  
His head rested on my knee, body curled tight on the floor, shoulders heaving as he panted in pain.  
  
Through his blue sweater two large blood stains covered his shoulder blades. His glorious wings had gone.

"Thomas," I all but dropped the spoon and bowl on the floor, gingerly placing my hands near his wounds. "What happened to you?"  
  
His fingers clutch at my legs, and he otherwise doesn’t move.  
  
"You’re wounded…," I murmur and begin to carefully lift his sweater. He spasms a little in pain, and I stop.  
  
"N..no, carry on," he gasps. "Don’t want to .. get infected."  
  
I manage to remove it, and the sight of his back makes me feel sick - sick for him and the pain he must be in.  
  
Yes, his wings have been removed, leaving deep bloody welts on his shoulders. I cover my mouth with my hand, my eyes watering.  
  
"Thomas who did this to you?" I manage to ask, wondering what on earth I could do to help him.  
  
"G..God, did." he bows his head.

"I…," tears start to fall, and my heart heaves, stopping me from speaking.  
  
"Can you bandage me?" he says softly, and all I can do is nod, before running upstairs to the bathroom.

And as I rush to find some bandages and a cloth to clean him with, I only then realise that I had been touching him for the first time.


	16. Atom Chapter 15: Exchange

**_OC_**  
  
Thomas perched on the end of my bed, his shirt off, pale torso wrapped in the white bandages. His hands palmed at the duvet, making scrunching sounds, and his eyes watched me as I entered the room, carrying two mugs of tea.  
  
I set them down on my bedside table and sat next to him. He smiled softly at me, his eyes roaming my face, and turned slightly to face me.

He lifted his arms slowly, and reached over to beckon me into an embrace. I carefully shifted into his arms, making sure my hands rested on his lower back, away from his painful wounds.  
  
He rested his head on my shoulder, nuzzling into the loose strands of hair there that had slipped from my bun, and hummed.  
  
"You feel amazing," he whispers, and I close my eyes briefly, a lump coming to my throat.  
  
"So do you." And he does. Warm, soft skin. His own unique scent - clean, gentle, heated.  
  
"I never thought this could ever happen," my voice falters and he hushes me, rocking me slightly in his arms.  
  
"I’m here," he whispers, stroking my hair.

I pull back, and reach to take his hands in mine.  
  
"Please tell me what happened. How come I can touch you… what happened to your wings? Are you okay?"  
  
_________________________  
  
He told me everything.  
  
About how angels can fall to Earth if they so choose, but will be stripped of their wings and will become mortal again.  
  
Trading in immortality for a short human life.  
  
God hates it. Sees it as defiance on the angel’s part.  
  
The wing-stripping is treated without ritual or reverence. Thomas was held down in the middle of God’s chambers as they cut him in silence. His bloodied wings were brushed into a corner.

  
Thomas shifted, lying next to me with his head in my lap.  
  
"When you… shunned me…," I wince at his words, "I spent some time reading through The Complete Treaties of Angels."  
  
The what?  
  
"It had a section about angels coming to earth in physical form. For the most part, God orders them to return to earth because they aren’t suited to angel life. It’s relatively easy for them. Their wings are hardly developed and God doesn’t bother making it painful for them…," he frowns. "However there had been a couple of cases where angels had returned due to love. It got me thinking."  
  
His eyes sparkle as he looks up at me. I can barely stop myself from bending to kiss him. I stroke his chin thoughtfully.  
  
"It’s rare for angels to fall in love with their humans like this. We get paired up completely randomly, almost like a lottery. Most angels like their humans, well enough. Some don’t like them too much but will stay to do their job. Some angels may be attracted to their humans for a while, but then the novelty wears off. Very few fall in love. And even fewer are lucky enough to have their human love them back.” He smiles softly, and raises his finger to tap me on the nose. “So you and I are certainly not part of the Lord’s plan."  
  
I giggle at that.  
  
"He wasn’t happy when I asked to be made human again." He sighs, eyes briefly flitting as he thinks. "And tried to dissuade me from it. Threw every reason not to at me. Which just made me more incensed and ready to go ahead with it."  
  
I smile. Yes. Thomas can be persistent when he wants to be.  
  
"You lost your wings for me," I muse, feeling a bit unworthy.  
  
"Partly," he waggles his eyebrows. "And for me too. Do you know how long I’ve waited to be able to do this…?"  
  
He reaches his hand round the back of my head, holding me there, and pulls my face down to kiss me on the lips.  
  
I moan into his mouth, as his soft lips press feather-light against mine. I can taste him, my angel, and he is intoxicating.  
  
I pull back, curious.  
  
"Better than the visions? Better than kissing me as an angel?" I cock my head to one side, grinning.  
  
He shifts around onto all fours and starts crawling over me, guiding me down until I’m lying under him on the bed.  
  
He rests on his elbows above me, his eyes flicking between mine. “You have no idea.”  
  
Slowly, his eyes flutter closed, and he lowers his mouth for another kiss.

The sight renders me breathless.

Before our lips meet, I say it.

“I love you, Thomas.”


	17. Atom Chapter 16: Human

**_OC_**  
  
"Hello sleepy bunny," I kiss Thomas’s soft curls as he blinks in the morning light. He begins to turn from his front onto his side to get up, and as his muscles flex his wounds sting and he mewls a little.  
  
Last night had been lovely. Really lovely. We had kissed, and eye-gazed, and held hands, and Thomas ate his first meal since before he became an angel (Domino’s Pizza!). Despite his eyes occasionally flickering with a look of want at me, he had been in a lot of pain, and so we took things easy, with an early night for him.

He had found it hard to sleep. He hadn’t slept for years, since before becoming an angel, and alongside that, lying on his back (or his sides) was proving difficult. He finally starting snoring softly once he nestled his head into the crook of my neck and wrapped his long limbs around me. I have to admit to feeling a bit hot, yet his weight was tremendously reassuring, and tiredness soon found me too.  
  
I rose earlier than Thomas, my fabulous period wakening me, and after freshening up in the bathroom I returned to find him shifting about under the covers.

"You okay?" I frown, checking to see if any more blood has seeped through the bandages.  
  
"I will be," he mutters, and sits up, pulling me into his arms. "I forgot how strongly humans feel. It does sting a bit…" he smiles softly, and rests his forehead against mine. "How about you?"  
  
"Yeah…," I stroke the little bristles along his cheek. "That time of the month, so…,"  
  
"Of course…," he pulls back a little. "I’m sorry, do you need anything? Where does it hurt? Does that feel better?" He hurriedly places his hands on my belly and I shake my head at him.  
  
"Thomas, you have two massive welts on your back. Let me look after myself this time, you need to rest up."  
  
He pouts. “But I’m supposed to look after you…”  
  
I kiss him softly on the lips, and he moans into my mouth.  
  
"And now it’s my time to look after you for a bit, okay?"  
  
His eyes glimmer with doubt, and I squeeze his hands gently in mine. “No arguments.”  
  
_______________________  
  
 **Day 1**  
  
I skived off work.  
  
I’ll keep this brief, as not a whole lot happened. You would think an angel falling to earth would be a monumental dramatic escapade, however the reality is a little more… practical than that.  
  
After making breakfast and changing Thomas’s dressings, I left him to his own devices for a bit whilst I went to buy him some clothes. Beyond the blue jumper, white tee, grey jeans and boots he had worn when he fell, he had nothing, so I grabbed a few extra tee shirts, some navy jeans, some socks and underwear to tide him over from Topman and H&M. Then I had to pick up less fun stuff like a toothbrush, and men’s deodorant. I found myself perusing hair gel for some strange reason too, but thought I’d just let him get what he wants once he’s up to it.  
  
We spent the rest of the afternoon playing the board game Articulate, then he ‘helped’ me cook pasta for dinner, pressing up against me by the stove, his head resting on my shoulder, his arms looped either side of my waist as he stirred the sauce.  
  
Oh so very domesticated.  
  
 **Day 2**  
  
Work. It’s Friday, and I want to catch up on whatever I missed yesterday so I don’t have a hair-raising Monday.  
  
Thomas seemed cheerful enough before I left, although he very much wanted to come with me. “I’ve guarded over you every day until now, it’s hard for me not to,” he had argued rather persuasively, however having him hang around the office in his human form would probably not be a good idea.  
  
When I got home, the smell of chilli hit my nostrils. He’d cooked for me! Holy crap, I can’t even remember the last time anyone had ever cooked for me. I found him in the kitchen, armed with a Nigel Slater cookbook, stirring a pan over the hob.  
  
"You didn’t have to do this," I walked up behind him, wrapping my arms round his waist, careful not to touch his healing shoulder-blades.  
  
"I want to look after you," he said simply. "And I like cooking. I haven’t done it for many years." He turns in my arms and kisses my forehead softly. "Get out of these office clothes. I know how much you hate them."  
  
I grin, and race to the bedroom. The weekend starts here! I shrug out of my blazer and practically rip off my blouse, ungracefully shoving my skirt off as I stand at my wardrobe, trying to figure out what to wear. Normally for a night in I’d throw on my trusty sports tee and black tracksuit pants, but with Thomas around maybe I should make more of an effort…  
  
I hear a slight rustle behind me, and peek over my shoulder.  
  
"Oi!" I cling to the wardrobe door, trying to cover my underwear-clad body.  
  
"Nothing I haven’t seen before," he leans against the bedroom door frame, a small smile on his lips.  
  
"Well.. well you’re supposed to be checking on the dinner, it might burn," I protest.

"I’ve just served it, actually, and it is awaiting you" he purrs. "So chip chop, let’s get you dressed."  
  
He strides over to me.  
  
"Thomas! No," I squeak, a bizarrely strong feeling of self-consciousness coming over me. Even after all we’d been through before, those visions, and knowing that he loves me and I him, this was still difficult. Still the first time he had seen me like this, while he’s in human form.  
  
He stops just before he reaches the wardrobe, shuvving his hands into his jean pockets. He swallows.  
  
"I… I think you’re lovely," he murmurs, looking away briefly, and my defenses somehow begin to lower.  
  
He’s my angel, for God’s sake. Come on girl, snap out of it.  
  
I quietly open the wardrobe door, exposing my bra-and-knicker-clad self to him, and turn back to looking at my clothes.  
  
I feel two strong hands hold me at the waist, and he drops his chin onto my shoulder.  
  
"I love you, and the sight of you - dressed or not - never ceases to thrill me," he says in a low voice. I raise my hand up to stroke his hair.

I smile and relax a little in his arms. “Hey, I love you too.”  
  
"Good," he says quietly, and kisses my neck briefly.  
  
"Hmmm," he rests his head on my shoulder again. "What about this?"  
  
He reaches out and tugs at an oversized grey vest I sometimes wear to the gym.  
  
"Really?!" I giggle.  
  
"Yeah," he starts to rock me slightly in his arms. "It reminds me of all the times you’ve come home bright-eyed and strong after circuit training."  
  
Who knew?!  
  
"Well, okay then…," I grab it from the hanger. "Since you like the gym bunny look so much, I will wear these, too," I grab a pair of patterned Nike leggings from the shelf above.  
  
Thomas lets go of me briefly as I wander over to the bed, setting the leggings on the mattress. I shrug on the vest and as my head pops through the neckline Thomas swiftly leans in to kiss me.  
  
"Hey!" I giggle, and he grabs me in a bear hug. I almost cling to him in response, yet manage to stop myself before i grip his sore back.  
  
"I can’t stop holding you," he confesses happily.  
  
And so I let him. Who can deny a poorly fallen angel his hugs?  
  
When we finally made it downstairs we had to reheat everything.  
  
 **Day 3**  
  
Bandages off!  
  
I felt hugely relieved. Part of me was worried that, as his wounds had seemed so deep, it might take longer for him to heal. Or that he may get infected. Or that maybe he was in more pain than he was letting on.

I kissed him lightly near the scabs, making him giggle and bristle a little, then carefully rolled his tee shirt back down.

"Scabbing over nicely," I murmured, feeling like a school nurse. He peeked over his shoulder at me.

"But don’t start stretching or twisting or lifting while I’m out, okay?"

He nods, and hops off the kitchen table to hug me. I squeeze him back, then manage to peel myself away to get ready for work.

"Hey," I begin, as I whirl around the kitchen grabbing some snacks, "I was thinking, now you’re on the mend…," Hmmm, apple, banana, crisps… "maybe you should look into doing something, you know, while I’m at work…,"

"I _have_ thought about it,” he appears behind me, and wraps his arms around my waist as I cram food into my bag. I lean back against his chest and sigh happily.

"And what are you thinking?"

He kisses the side of my neck with a deep groan. “Mmm you smell so good there…,”

"Thomas!"

He nuzzles his nose into my hair, then exhales a little sigh. “I was thinking about studying Theology.”

I grin. That would be perfect!

"But…," he nudges my temple with his forehead, "I think I could teach the students, and even the academics, a thing or two…"

He spins me around in his arms, and presses me to him, his eyes sparkling in the early morning light.

"I want to be a Theology Professor."

I place my palms on his cheeks and lean in to kiss him. “Perfect…,” I whisper against his lips.

"Perfect," he whispers back, his warm breath dancing tantalisingly across my skin, and he covers my mouth with his.

"Mmmmmm…," I hum into his mouth, and he starts to giggle, pulling back. "I think I’m going to enjoy this human lark."

I giggle with him, his laughter infectious, and feel a wave of relief mixed with joy to see him this happy. “I’m really pleased for you, this sounds just…. _so_ right.”

He bounces lightly on the spot in his jammies, and I shake my head, almost disbelieving how well things seem to be turning out for us. I was worried he might feel lost for a good long while, without direction, since being an angel had been his _thing_ for so long. I thought it could be difficult for him to find a new way to spend his time. Of course Thomas will have to study, find a suitable teaching job, and jump through a few hurdles, but I can’t think of a better profession for him.

My eyes catch sight of the kitchen clock nearby and I squawk like a punctured goose, grabbing my bag and shooing Thomas (not unkindly) out of the way. He follows me to the front door.

"Guess I’ll be seeing you tonight then, _Professor_ …”

He swats my backside lightly and I squeak.

"You will indeed, Miss."

I look over my shoulder at him as I walk down the path outside. He looks utterly delectable - arms folded across his chest making his biceps bulge, head cocked to one side. A mischievous smile plays on his pink lips as he says “don’t be late.”


	18. Atom chapter 17: Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors suggestion: Listen to this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAiHve2JZvU) while reading. Thanks to thequeenscommand for this aural suggestion.

_**OC** _

I was late home from work. I was late.

My day had been dropped coins and a twisted ankle and a broken photocopier and screaming babies on the bus. It had felt harsh and a trek. The intermittent thoughts of Thomas at home kept a smile going inside me somewhere, and finally reaching home felt like a reward for everything I had endured.

I didn’t need to say anything. He knows every part of my physiology well enough to trace my emotions.

"Come here," he says quietly, and I tumble into his arms. He starts to paw at my jacket sleeves, shrugging them off my shoulders and setting the jacket down on the hallway floor. His warm arms wrap strongly around my frame, pulling me to him, securely, my sanctuary. My piece of solid ground in this crazy world that spins so fast sometimes.

"Let me be your angel again tonight," he whispers into my hair, and i squeeze my fingertips a little more firmly against his shoulders.

"Angel…," I murmur, closing my eyes softly.

"I’m here," his low voice breathes against the top of my head.

____________________

Everything is white. All white. It’s _all_ white.

The pillow cases and sheets and blankets, usually mis-matched and of varying colours, have been replaced with pristine white bedding. Sheer organza white sheeting hangs softly from the ceiling light fixtures, draping over the bed to form a canopy.

 A handful of white roses lie looking vulnerable on the pillows.

A few simple white candles scatter the bedroom.

Thomas stands behind me, and drops his chin to rest on my shoulder. I gasp his name, and he winds his arms around my waist.

"For you."

I turn to face him, and he strokes his fingertips gently through the loose strands of my hair, his eyes regarding me, a small frown of concern on his brow.

His fingers fidget at my waist. “Is this okay?”

Overwhelmed, I nod wordlessly, taking in the sight of the fallen angel before me. I bring my hand up to stroke his hair, and as he leans into my touch my lower lip trembles as tears start to cloud my vision.

"Hey..," he pulls me closer to him, and I move my fingers to his lips to hush him. He kisses them.

"It’s okay," I sniff, as a tear falls from my eyelash down my cheek. "I want to feel this. I want to feel this deeply."

He looks carefully into my eyes, and bites his lower lip.

"I wanted to make you happy…"

"You do!" I gasp, my shoulders shaking as more tears start to trickle down my face. "I’m happy to the point of tears," I shake my head slightly, in awe at him.

"Good tears?"

I nod, and take a deep breath as he leans in closer.

"Then your tears are precious to me," he whispers, brushing his lips along my jaw.

He begins kissing my tears, his lips feather-light at my skin, peppering my chin, cheeks, temples, eyelids. I feel warmth lingering where his lips once were.

I hold on tightly to his shoulders for balance, the tears still flowing.

Everything sinks in.

What we’ve been through.

What Thomas has done for me.

That somehow I was with the man I love.

That those nights of doubt and yearning had ended.

"Hey," he interrupts my thoughts, and takes my chin between his thumb and finger, gazing at me.

And as if he could read my thoughts, he begins.

"I spent hours, days, weeks, decades… and it was worth it for this one moment with you. Worth it to kiss your tears as they fall. And I would do it again."

I cry silently, my body feeling limp in his arms, and he guides me gently back towards the bed where he lays me down, propping himself up beside me to look at me.

He curls the tips of my hair through his long fingers, his eyes warm, sincere, true.

"As an angel my need for you was so strong. Physically compelled to you."

I think of when we spent those days apart, and look away.

"Hey," his fingers guide my face back to look at him.

"I’d do it again." He rests his forehead against mine, and closes his eyes. "I would do it again," he breathes. I reach my fingers up to stroke the little hairs that line his jaw, sobbing my "no, no“‘s. Never again. I wouldn’t allow it. I’d take on God if I had to.

"I never thought my desire to be close to you could be any stronger than then," his blue eyes meet mine. "But as a human it’s more…." His fingers continue to thread through my hair, then he begins to stroke my eyebrows reverentially. "Being able to touch you..," his lips quiver into a small smile, "I feel like God’s let me in on a holy secret."

"Thomas…," I flush, and try to pull his head down for our lips to meet. He holds back a little, just for a moment, eyes roving across my features, then he relents and we kiss with closed lips, over and over, tiny unspoken promises placed between us.

"Do you know that I would hide from you?" he murmurs against my lips.

I frown. “Hide?”

He strokes the tip of his nose along mine.

"Whenever you were half-dressed or undressed," he swallows, and tucks my hair behind my ear. "And I wanted to hide when you were with other guys, but I couldn’t."

He lowers his head, resting his chin on my collar bone. “I had to make sure you came to no harm.”

"I’m so sorry," my voice is small, as I think of my love having to watch me with other guys.

His eyes flicker to mine. “No, it was an honour to guard you. And it made me know that I loved you. That I should be with you. I just wished it could have been me back then.”

I pull him closer to me, the warmth of his chest pressing next to mine, and I bury my head in the crook of his neck, letting my nose take in his scent.

I close my eyes, feeling him above me, grateful.

He shifts in my arms, and I look up to see him hover over me, the white organza above him, soft white everywhere.

And as much as I wanted to touch every inch of him and pull me to him, it was almost enough to merely let the image of him sink in.

Clear light blue eyes that had watched over me every step; that had been there for every stumble, every secret victory, every time I’d had to hold myself up when my knees wanted to give in. The eyes of a soul who knew me as well as I knew myself.

And his lips that only ever spoke truth, that tore down doubtful walls that humans sometimes have for protection… his sincerity created a space to be free.

I’d never trusted anyone like this before.

And so I have never felt this content before.

Thomas frowns and leans down to kiss at the lone tear that trickles from the corner of my eye.

"Happy tear," I whisper.

______________

**_Thomas_ **

I felt overwhelmed.

I looked down on my human, before me, eyes alive with tears that shone in the candle light. It was almost too much to acknowledge that not only could I view her, not only could I touch her, but I could speak directly to her heart. That her tears were for me.

No more barriers. No more invisible walls. No lines we couldn’t cross, no angry God waiting for me to slip up.

Just us.

Her lips waver into a vulnerable smile. “Are you okay?” she asks.

I swallow.

How many years I have wanted - waited - for her to see me, and ask me, and…

"Thomas, hey…" she wipes a tear from my cheek with soft, warm fingertips. "Don’t you start crying too," she smiles, "otherwise you’ll set me off again."

I giggle nervously and look away, but am soon drawn down into her arms once more.

And amongst the tears and emotions and love, my heart wants to pull me closer to her. Closer still.

I let my fingers trail down to her waist, squeezing her hip gently, prompting her to move against me reassuringly.

We shift our heads to view one another. I cup her cheek in my hand, and kiss her softly once, twice, until I illicit a moan from her. Her mouth relaxes open, and I take her bottom lip between my lips, suckling softly, making her cry out.

Her hips snake next to mine, and her arms loosen at my neck, as I let my lips travel down her neck.

I will never tire of the taste of her skin. Her scent. Her moans around me.

It feels like a dream.

"Please…," she murmurs, and I look up to see flushed and bright-eyed and beautiful.

I can’t help but smile, and nod, shifting back to unzip her trousers, removing them, before resuming my place between her legs.

She blinks up at me, her expression a little scared. A look I know well, on my human.

The look that says ‘please don’t reject me, please don’t find fault with me’.

I stroke my fingers through her hair to reassure her. “Close your eyes,” I whisper, hoping it may help her to not feel so self-conscious.

She nods and bites her lip, a flicker of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

I lower my head to whisper “I love you,” while loosening my jeans, then gently move her panties aside to begin nudging next to her most intimate parts with the tip of me.

"Oh God, Thomas," her eyes fly open, her chest heaving close to mine, and she writhes against me, her hands grasping onto my shoulder blades. Her thighs drop open further either side of me.

I gasp as I begin to ease inside of her, slowly, so as not to alarm her.

I gaze down at her, feeling like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away from her.

Being this intimate with her is breathtaking.

As I sink further into her, I feel waves of pleasure crash across my body, feelings that I’d almost thought were mythical as an angel.

And now it is she who reassures me, with tender strokes along my jaw, and a perfect smile.

"Stay inside," she whispers, "don’t leave."

I pull her flush against me, legs entwined, deeply inside her, her shoulders and chest encased by me.

"Never," I promise, and rock her gently in my arms as I let the core of her being know I’m there at last.


	19. Atom Chapter 18: Union

"What are you doing?" his low voice, thick with sleep, growled across to me.

"It’s only fair," I grinned, and got up from my desk chair, crouching down next to the bed by him.

"You were watching me?"

"Uh-huh," I nod, gently stroking the little blond hairs on his forearm.

"For how long?" he shifts, motioning for me to come into his arms, which I gratefully do.

"Oh I don’t know…," I feign. "An hour or so, maybe..,"

"Really?" he tickles me gently as I kneel on top of him, my knees against the sides of his hips.

"Ha! Yes, really."

"Mmm," he hums, his eyes starting to awaken. "And did you like what you saw?"

"Yes, Thomas," I giggle, and topple forward to lie on top of him. His sweet breathes pulse warmly near my jaw.

"I could be _your_ guardian angel,” I whisper, wiping strands of his hair from his brow.

"Would you wear some wings?" he asks, eyes innocent.

"Would you _like_ me to?” I retort, raising an eyebrow.

His mouth widens into a toothy grin, and his chest shakes as he chuckles.

"I love you, my angel," he says wistfully, and pulls me in for a kiss.

"I’m _here!_ ”

Thomas groans and I yelp as I hear another man’s voice coming from behind us.

I turn my head to see a tall man with dark hair, handsome in a kind of Victorian Mr Rochester kind of way, in a long dark coat. I can just make out wing tips behind him.

He waves at me with a smirk.

I turn back to face Thomas, my eyes wide, feeling scared. Thomas shifts under me, sitting up, looking irritated.

"Benedict, what in God’s name are you doing here?"

"I got reinstated," he says chirpily, spreading his wings out behind him. "Thought I’d let you know, since you’ve become human. Thought perhaps you’d like a guardian angel for yourself."

"Well that would not be you, would it?" Thomas cuts him off.

Benedict’s mouth drops open in fake shock. “Thomas, really, after all we’ve been through together, that is rather hurtful.”

"Oh, sod off," Thomas grumbles and throws a pillow at him, narrowly missing, landing on the floor at his side.

"So dramatic," Benedict scoffs.

_Wait a minute._

"How come you’re here, and how come I can see you? No-one summoned you. Did they?" I turn to Thomas. "Did you?" I frown.

"You said angel, he said angel, I’m an angel - without a ward at the moment, I may add - so I thought I’d drop in and see what the fuss was about. Lovely to finally meet you, by the way." He clicks his heels as he eyes me slyly.

"No-one ordered you Benedict," Thomas grumbles and shifts me so he can get up. "Now clear off!"

Benedict clucks his tongue. “Testy this morning, aren’t we? Fine, fine, I’ve seen enough of your boxer-short-clad pale body for one lifetime,” he frowns as Thomas approaches him. “When’s the wedding?”

Huh?

"What?" Both me and Thomas say.

"You know, husband and wife, before God. Probably not best to do it before God actually after what’s happened, but we could certainly have a good old reception, full of awful music and sausage rolls."

The room is otherwise silent. I can’t see Thomas’s face from this angle but I’ve no doubt he is not happy.

"Right. Well then, great." Benedict rocks back on his heels, looking pleased as punch. "Just say my name on the big day and I’ll appear. Toodle-loo."

I exhale a large breath, and Thomas turns to me.

"Sorry about that."

I shake my head. “It was quite entertaining actually. Though we’re going to have to be careful about using the ‘a’ word, in case he pops up again.”

Thomas groans and sits down on the edge of the bed next to me.

I take a deep breath. “It sounded good, though, didn’t it?”

"Hmm?" Thomas’s eyebrows rise and he turns to look at me.

"Husband and wife."

His mouth opens a little, making an ‘oh’ shape.

I look down at my hands in my lap. Well, this is awkward.

Suddenly he lunges towards me, grabbing the back of my head with his hand and pulling me into a deep kiss.

"Yes," he pants between kisses, and curls his tongue deeper into my mouth. "Yes."

______________________

It was a deliberately intimate affair. It didn’t feel right to have masses of people watching us as we pledged ourselves to one another. Also, Thomas didn’t really have anyone to invite to the wedding, other than some angel friends, so it made sense to keep things small.

Shortly after Benedict planted the seed of marriage in our minds, we decided to elope. Not in a grand, running-away manner, rather we literally looked into finding someone to marry us as soon as we could.

You’re not _supposed_ to conduct weddings without permission in a Royal Park.

Rules fly out of the window when you’re marrying an ex-angel.

My converse trainers squeaked a bit on the wet grass, and I hugged Thomas’s arm in mine as stood before Judy, who usually works as a university chaplain when she’s not marrying people.

Thomas looked divine, as always. In jeans and a jacket, which carried his familiar scent. I couldn’t ask for more.

We asked a vendor at a nearby coffee kiosk to be our witness, and that was it.

We didn’t need any more. This wasn’t about anyone else. In this moment I know that mine and Thomas’s bond is something sacred, and always will be - no matter that he’s no longer an angel.

The vendor and Judy threw popcorn over us as we forgot to bring confetti, and after thanking them both we happily walked down past the lake, towards home.

I skipped a little. “So, honeymoon.”

Thomas chuckled. “I bet you already have something in mind, don’t you?” He kissed me on the cheek.

"Yep," I bounced as I walked, watching the geese plop off the lakeside into the water.

"Cheapest next available plane tickets from City airport?"

He laughs loudly, “Yes! Yes, go on then.”

He squeezes me next to him, and I lean my head on his shoulder as we walk.

"Hmm," he kisses my head briefly. "Can I just do something quickly?"

"Yeah," I nod, and he stops, a wry grin on his mouth. "Benedict," he mutters.

"I bloody missed it, didn’t I?" Benedict scowls, storming up the path towards us, his wings flouncing behind him.

"Serves you right," Thomas crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at him.

"What?! I was the instigator of this! I suggested you two marry - ah, hello again, you." He turns to me, looking down his nose.

His brow furrows. “Did you get married like this?” he gestures to our casual attire.

We both hold up our left hands, rings gleaming in the afternoon light.

He blinks. He looks almost genuinely hurt.

"No reception?" his voice is small.

"No, mate," Thomas takes my hand in his and we start walking, leaving Benedict bereft behind us.

"Well good bloody luck," he calls out, and Thomas giggles.

And soon, after a mad dash around the flat to stuff our suitcases, we are at the airport, waiting to board our spontaneous honeymoon flight to Moldova.


	20. Atom Chapter 19: Guardian (The End)

Three months later…

_**OC** _

I had thought about Thomas all day whilst at work.

We had exchanged a few text messages throughout the day, yet I couldn’t wait to see him at home.

Not when he had left the house looking so delicious this morning.

I wasn’t used to seeing him wearing anything other than his standard casual clothes, so to see him dapper in a vest suit, brogues, glasses and a sleek black leather satchel was quite the sight for sore eyes. He almost didn’t make it out of the house on time, and it was all I could do to not ruffle and rumple every damn inch of him. And that wouldn’t do on his first day at work.

So when I arrived home to an empty house, I gleefully changed into the halter neck top I know he loves (as it exposes my shoulders for him to kiss), along with a pencil skirt and stiletto ankle boots. I was half tempted to wait for him naked.

Around half an hour later (and a mug of hot chocolate later) I heard keys in the front door latch, and scuttled across the living room to welcome my man home.

He was even more attractive than this morning, if that’s even possible. Light stubble had grown through, shading his jaw to give his face even more definition. His suit looked a little more relaxed on him, rather than the slight rigidity it had this morning. And as his eyes met mine, he bit his lip momentarily before his face burst into a welcoming smile.

"Hey," he says quietly, as I rush over to him, throwing my arms around his neck and press my body to him, making him take a step back to steady himself.

I feel his strong forearms wrap around the back of my waist, his hands pulling me to him. He hums. “What’s this for?”

"You," I grin, taking a deep inhale of his scent, the scent I’d been craving all day. "Just you," I pull back a little to look at him.

Holy hell he looks good in those glasses.

"How did it go?"

"Good," he whispers, and draws me to him for a light kiss. "Mmm," he murmurs, pulling his lips away, "not as good as this, though."

I giggle and let my hands rest on his shoulders, squeezing him gently.

"The students… are they…?"

"A mixed bunch," he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. "But they’ll be fine. It feels good."

"I’m proud of you," I run my fingers along the lapel of his suit jacket. My professor.

Warm fingertips press under my chin, tilting my face back up to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," he whispers, and tilts his mouth to kiss me. Gently, at first, his lips warm mine, happy to be close to me, happy to be home. Then his tongue begins to peek through in curiosity, just the tip, wandering across my lips, tasting me, daring to enter my mouth.

Thomas deepens the kiss, his large hands cupping the back of my head as he presses his body against mine, his thick pliable tongue working its way into my mouth.

I almost keel over on my heels.

Panting, I manage to tear myself away from him for just a moment, just to breathe, and reach a hand out to lean against the hallway wall.

"Thomas..," I gasp between breathes, "Can we take this to the bedroom…. I’m scared I might fall over…,"

____________________________________

The boots were the first to go. They didn’t even make it past the hallway.

And as much as I wanted to be classy, as much as I wanted to be the kind of woman who looks glamourous next to such a handsome man in a well-tailored suit, something inside of me was telling me to take all my clothes off.

And so it was not too long before I was utterly brazenly naked underneath my still-suited and booted university lecturer husband.

And it felt so erotic.

My hands could not move fast enough to touch every part of him - his soft curls, the little hairs along his chin and jaw, his shoulders that flexed and moved under the suit, his rounded bottom that undulated and writhed, covered in the soft trouser fabric. Even feeling the soft skin of my feet rub against the sides of his leather brogues excited me.

He pinned me down to the mattress, trapped between his thighs, a large hand keeping my hands up above my head, and began to let his nose and lips and tongue trail across my bare skin, lazily, exploring my curves. When he mouth suckled hard on my nipple I squealed in delighted surprise, wriggling under him as his free hand squeezed me gently at the hip to keep me still.

And soon we were two naked bodies, intertwined, playfully struggling for dominance, tumbling under and atop each-other, connected at the hip.

We giggled and moaned and whispered together until our bodies erupted, eyes locked on each other, hearts stunned from the feeling of orgasm, and crawled into each others arms murmuring thankyou’s and i love you’s and you’re amazing’s.

______________________________________

Thomas rests his lips against the top of my head and breathes onto my scalp, sending a rush of warmth through me.

"So… we have a guardian angel now," his voice vibrates at my head.

"Really? For both of us?" I wonder, who?

"Yes, Benedict managed to pull some strings. Do you want to meet him?" I can hear a smile in Thomas’ voice.

Oh God I hope it’s _not_ Benedict.

"Go on then," I close my eyes, almost not daring to look as I hear Thomas call out "angel?".

When I open my eyes and see, words tumble out of me breathlessly.

“Ohmygodnowayyou’rekiddingme…”

At the bottom of the bed appears an Alsatian, with a woof, little white wings folded neatly on its back.

"He can look after you when we’re not together in the day - you can take him to work with you," Thomas wraps his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me to his side.

"Can I have him visible all the time? Pleease?"

Thomas chuckles. “Okay then sweetheart, as long as he doesn’t distract you too much. He’s an ex- war dog, so very loyal, and has terrific instincts. He’ll certainly let you know if he doesn’t like someone - he’ll bark and growl.”

The dog pads up to the side of the bed.

"And you’re good at comforting people when they’re down. Aren’t you boy?” The dog sits obediently, his mouth open slightly as he breathes, and gazes at Thomas.

"What’s his name?" I ask.

"Well," Thomas begins, "it has to be angel, so you can call him. Although I think when he walked the Earth his name was Hunter."

"Can we let him on the bed?" I raise an eyebrow conspiratorially.

"Well it’s not like he’s going to make a mess…," Thomas murmurs. ‘Up you come, boy’. He taps the space between us on the covers, and the dog jumps up, padding through Thomas’s legs like a ghost, then lying down between mine and Thomas’s legs.

My hands ache to give his fur a good stroke. “Can’t pet him though…,” I murmur.

"That’s what I’m here for…," Thomas whispers and pulls me tightly to him for a cuddle.

END.


End file.
